


House of Echoes

by shotgunsinlace



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Gore, Daddy Kink, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Polyamory, Psychological Horror, Rimming, Rough Sex, Suicide Attempt, Suicide mention, Supernatural Elements, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 124,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunsinlace/pseuds/shotgunsinlace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after the murder, Levi is finally ready to let it go. The house at the end of Ashbury Lane is quaint and peaceful ― a gift from an old time friend meant to grant him a new beginning. However, when the shadows begin to move at the dead of night, taking on the form of a treasure thought lost, Levi begins to fear for both his sanity and his life. Suddenly, the road to recovery becomes a game of kill or be killed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING:** If the tags aren't clear enough, I want to take a moment to inform that this fic will be extremely dark and includes content that may be triggering to some. Everything will be tagged accordingly. **On ships:** This story contains several pairings but since they're minor, I won't be tagging them; mostly because I don't want to clog up the tags for people who want to find ship-centric fic. HOWEVER, this story contains Levi/Eren as the pairing with the main focus, but this also has Levi/Erwin in a non-love triangle format. (As in, the three of them are in a complicated polyamorous relationship.) Those who can't stand EruRi, this isn't for you. I will hear nothing on this subject for you have been warned.
> 
> Anyhoo, this is a little something inspired by Danielewski's _House of Leaves_ , hence my terrible attempt at a title. Some of the mythos is also heavily inspired by _Supernatural_ , in case there's anyone here who is familiar with the series.
> 
> And that's it. Enjoy!

Tick, tock, tick, go the hands of the clock above armored doors.

One, two, three seconds gone, never to be grasped again, while he sits suspended in a vacuum, awaiting the inevitable.

It has never bothered him while he ran and hid, while he drove and carved under the command of a phantasm. Life is insignificant. The world is insignificant. Humans are but an atom within a grain of sand when compared to the vastness of the cosmos. 

Death doesn’t matter. Nothing really matters.

He hums to himself, filling the void in the isolated cell block. He sings when the doors beneath the loudly ticking clock creak open.

_“They used to be sweet little boys, but something went horribly askew…”_

The rhythmic click of heels against linoleum floors clashes unpleasantly with the beat of his song.

_“Now killing is their only source of joy. ”_

From iron bars and a pale gray room, the sight shifts to brilliant reddish-blonde hair. A sad smile trapped within the confines of a smart, blue suit.

_“The Shankill Butchers on the rise, they’re waiting ‘till the dead of night. ”_

“Levi,” the woman says, careful to stay behind the white line three feet from his cell door.

_“They’re picking at their fingers with their knives, and wiping off their cleavers on their thigh.”_

“Please stop singing that,” she says, pulling up the guard’s chair and taking it. There’s nothing in her hands, no clipboard and no recorder, unlike every other psychiatrist or attorney that has walked through those doors.

_“’Cause everybody knows…”_

“I won’t ask again.”

He allows his mouth to settle onto a half smile, and he can see her uncomfortable shiver in the dim light. Things used to be so different between them. A flame blown out before it had the chance to burn. Now, the person in front of him is nothing but his lawyer, the woman in charge of making sure he doesn’t go to jail.

The woman who failed.

All they have left is to appeal.

With Smith’s fortune and Ral’s ability to trigger sympathy from people, they are certain they will somehow get him out of the freak-show.

“They’ve given us the chance to reopen the case. We may be able to get you out yet,” Petra offers with a tight frown.

“I should have minded my mother’s words,” Levi says, crossing his legs and bending it at the knee. “A wicked wind blew the ribbons from my curls.”

Petra heaves a sigh, her hands coming down to fiddle with the hem of her pencil skirt. “We can still claim insanity, Levi. We’ll get you help, if that’s what you need, if it’s what you want. Please don’t throw away this opportunity to walk away. It’s so rarely given.”

He measures the time it takes for him to blink, the amount of times his heart beats underneath the orange jumper. Air-conditioned or not, sweat gathers in his armpits. If anything, he would trade in his final meal for a good shower.

Head against the concrete wall, Levi looks to his side, towards the previously empty cot. There sits a young man in a casual slump and a warm smile on his lips. Unlike Levi, he isn’t wearing the standard issue jumpsuit. A pair of dress slacks matched with a simple, white button down covers the blunt edges of his body.

“What do you think?” Levi says.

“Well—”

“Not you,” he tells Petra, fixing her with a stern glare that holds no real malice. He simply doesn’t like it when people answer questions not meant for them. He turns back towards the cot. “Eren?”

The young man tilts his head to the side, his smile widening, transforming his face from bored to stunningly bright. He hums and offers an awkward shrug. “It’s really up to you. Your choice. I’m just here for the ride.”

Levi considers him for a long moment, before turning his eyes to a mildly concerned Petra. “I’m not crazy,” he says, brimming with boredom. “I’d rather my last deed not be a lie.”

Petra keeps her eyes on him, meeting his gaze head-on before casting a glance at the cot on the corner. “Do you see him there?” Her words are a mere whisper, and Levi can taste the woeful hesitance of her tone.

_Do you see him there?_

Six months of the same question and Levi has given them every answer imaginable, each one shot down. If he lies, he’s called out. If he tells them the truth, he’s called insane and is forced to change his story. If he remains silent, he receives more of the look Petra is giving him.

Levi always sees him: the bane of his sorry existence, the gear behind his machine.

“Let them gas me,” Levi says, avoiding the green eyes that hold a tender light in them. “Wouldn’t be fair for Erwin to bail me out. Not after killing his partner, chopping him up and sorting him into black bags.”

The color drains from Petra’s rosy cheeks, and for someone as professional as her, it’s underwhelming to see her regarding him as a friend rather than a client. “Why?” she asks, lips barely moving. “Was it Eren who brought you here?”

Levi entwines his fingers, making himself comfortable for the long conversation to come. “Not in the way you’d expect.”

From the inside of her suit jacket, Petra takes out a small recorder. Getting up from her seat, she moves over to a table and places it on it, pressing the red button before turning back to Levi’s cage.

Hands elegantly clasped in front of her, she paces the room. Even through the thin veneer of impassive professionalism, it’s easy to see her debating her next move. Petra carefully picks at her words, tries to predict the possible outcomes and manipulate them in her favor. Despite the grizzly scenario, Levi feels a sense of pride for his former colleague.

“Wednesday, April 16, 2014. 10:00 pm.” She stops just over the white tape, safely out of his reach. “Tell me, Levi.” Taking one wide step, she grips tightly onto the steel bars. The red of her fingernails contrasts nicely with the corroded black. “Tell _me_ what happened. If you want to die, fine, so be it – I know better than to try to stop you.” Bitterness. “But at least tell me why you did it.”

“Story’s starting to get boring, if you ask me,” Eren grumbles, turning on the cot with a sniff. He scratches the bottom of his nose. “To think they should just believe you after all this time. I mean, the evidence was there.”

“She’s not asking about the murders. She’s asking about _you._ ”

“Yeah, well, what about me? There ain’t shit any of us can do to make ‘em believe us, so why keep telling them the same thing over and over again?”

Levi opens his mouth to retort, but Petra clears her throat. There’s discomfort on her face, but she doesn’t pull away from the bars. “I’ll hear what he has to say,” she says. Truth be told, Levi isn’t surprised by her attempt to get him to talk. “I’m not asking as your attorney.”

“Last twelve hours, and you want me to spend them telling you a ghost story.”

“I want to know why my friend is adamant to die when he used to be so much stronger than this.”

“We never worked out because all you ever did was assume. It’s not the prospect of dying that keeps me from claiming innocence by fault of insanity.”

His quip makes Petra look away, but there is no embarrassment on her face. No blush or coy smile. There is an overwhelming sense of nothing to her.

“Do you think that you will be able to see him again when you die?” She squares off her shoulders, hands dropping away from the cell door.

Close, but not quite. Levi can see Eren, day in and day out. Eren walks the cold hallways of Levi’s house, sits at his table for coffee, and lies on the living room floor to watch movies. But there’s more to this surreal epiphany than he can ever hope to convey.

A yawn pulls Levi’s attention towards Eren, and he sees him settling down on the cot. He curls into himself, all soft curves and boyish face, ready to sleep.

“What exactly do you want to hear?” Talking about what happened, about the tangible facts within Levi’s hands is easier to swallow than weaving speculative nonsense that will get him convicted of madness, however true it may be.

“Everything,” Petra says, unwavering voice suddenly loud and clear as she presses her lips into a thin line. “No holding back, no omitting information you may find compromising. If you’re going to go through with this, you owe us this much.”

Funny, he thinks. He’s sure he owes them nothing.

Turning his eyes to the cracked ceiling, Levi sighs. “You won’t like half the things I’d say.”

“I’ve stomached worse.”

“I got off on it.”

The admission plunges the room into silence, for the exception of Eren who makes an interested sound. There’s heat in his eyes, the same heat that drove Levi to pull the proverbial trigger.

Levi looks away when Eren slowly drags his hands down his own chest in a blatant invitation neither will be able to take advantage of.

“I don’t care.” Petra’s words are a mere whisper, hesitant.

“I took blood with my tea, stirred it with their metacarpals.”

“Erwin doesn’t blame you for Mike’s death,” she says. “He honestly believes that you’re ill—”

“No, he doesn’t,” Levi says, and he almost laughs, because Erwin knows better than anyone. Hell, they all know. They all know Levi too well to write this off as some freak fluke of the mind, it’s just easier for them to embrace the most convenient excuse. “Erwin knows why I did it.”

The shift in Petra’s brow tells him that she does too. “I just want to hear the whole truth.”

The ticking of the clock has stopped, drowned out in the wake of his thoughts. Retelling the events of the last few months will be like the recounting of his memoir. He wonders if Petra would write it, make it a best seller. He hopes she does. Eren’s name deserves to be immortalized, and he can’t think of a better way to do it, if he’s to take the name with him to the grave.

Let it be one final act of vanity.

“Fine then,” he says, casting Eren a sidelong glance. “I’ll tell you everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Levi sings is [The Shankill Butchers by The Decemberists](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLY0HNds_tE).


	2. Cold Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday night! Here's a short update. Enjoy. ~

Ashbury Lane ends in a quaint meadow surrounded by pine trees, the likes of which are reminiscent to a surreal painting belonging in a museum. At the center of the browning patch of grass, bathed in the pale orange late of a late autumn sun, rests a small house, newly restored, and freshly painted. A ways down is a creek, which’s rushing sound reaches the ears of whoever stands on the wooden porch whenever the wind is strong enough to carry it.

Heralded by the oncoming cold, the air smells crisp, clean despite its earthiness.

The bubble of a home radiates a detached sort of peace and comfort, like a page ripped from a book in the fantasy aisle. Hints of gray push in through the beams of orange; leaves twirl down from the oaks and join the others already resting on the ground.

A heaviness that can only be brought forth by nature settles in his bones, and he hates it.

“I hate it,” Levi says, no qualm about it. 

He’s used to the city life, to the condos that shiver whenever the train whistles by. The lights of corporate buildings, the booming of nightclubs and the rattle of taxis. That is what he’s used to. Not this. In fact, he hates listening to ambient sound generators while working on reports. He can only just imagine the hell it will be to wake up to chirping birds and rushing water.

“I think it’s pretty,” Hanji says, cradling her chin and humming in approval. “No nearby neighbors, no smelling industrial fumes. I mean, you don’t smoke, but I’m pretty sure your lungs are shot at this point.”

Levi makes a noncommittal sound, adjusting the scarf around his shoulders when a chilly breeze ruffles through the trees. “It’s boring.”

“And you’re a boring old man,” she says, giving him a thumbs up. “Perfect place is perfect.”

Before he can retort, the familiar sound of a purring engine drags their attention towards the lane. Hanji waves at it as Levi begrudgingly crosses the clearing, steering away from the bustle of conversation he knows is about to erupt the moment the pickup’s doors open.

Apparently, having the foundation and beams reinforced did little to cancel the creaks and groans of the ancient house. Every step he takes towards his front door is ushered by a complaint, and all it does is grate on his nerves.

Looking through the screen door on his porch sets his hairs on end for one reason or another, mostly because he can see right across the house, and out the screen door on the back, and further than that, the yawning darkness of the forest. Even though the house is small, it feels too big for just one person. 

It’s too open, it invites the wilderness in, and when the sun sets just right, it creates the illusion of faceless shadows walking along the wooden hallways.

He turns towards the lane, preferring to stare at the group of people piling out of the sleek pickup, all shiny black and silver detailing.

Erwin jumps down from the driver’s side, and from the passenger’s side emerges Mike, who moves the chair frontwards. Petra, Erd, and Gunther crawl out of the back, all of them talking amongst themselves and chuckling at some unheard joke. Aurou jumps out of the truck bed.

“Settled in, yet?” Erwin calls out, waving in Levi’s direction with a brilliant smile.

“We just got here,” Hanji answers for him, jogging up to the truck when Erwin opens the back door. “Haven’t even unloaded the luggage yet.”

Levi watches them remove the tarp, revealing a large box. He can only see what it is when it’s flipped right side up, and he’s unsure whether to frown or roll his eyes. Between Erwin, Hanji, and Aurou, they unload the new flat screen television.

“Consider it a house warming gift,” Erwin says as they make their way up the short set of steps. “Mike hooked you up with free Netflix. Added you to his account.”

“If I move, do I get free Netflix, too?” Petra says, two six-packs of beer in tow.

“You think we can start a campfire out here?” Erd asks to no one particular as he spins on the spot, taking in the surroundings. “This’ll be great for camping. I bet you can see the starts nice and bright.”

“Not with these big ass trees,” Levi says, pushing and holding the screen door open for everyone to pour inside.

Not that he knows. The one time he stopped by at night had been on a hunch. He could have sworn someone had given him a call, telling him that someone had broken in, but he doesn’t remember said call ever being made. Levi does remember driving up to the end of Ashbury Lane around midnight, a wooden bat in hand, ready to tackle whoever dared intrude on his property.

Unsurprisingly, he had found nothing. Not a single mantle out of place, or ruffled curtain. He left with a heavy weight on his shoulders, and an unheard whisper in his ear.

Visiting the house at night had made him hyperaware of his surroundings at all hours of the day. He feared getting hit by a car when crossing the street or choking to death in his sleep. There is no real rhyme or reason for the newly obtained paranoia, it just is. It has settled on him since that night.

When everyone’s inside, Levi closes the door behind him and makes his way into the living room, taking off his scarf and jacket as he goes. Everyone’s already making themselves comfortable, shedding the extra layers and neatly placing them on the side table.

Petra sets up the television while Erwin holds it in place, and the others have moved into the kitchen to store away the beer.

Levi stands in the hallway that separates both rooms before deciding on falling onto the couch, but Hanji stops him before he can move a muscle.

“We left the pizzas in your car,” she says, pushing him out onto the porch. “Go get ‘em, and take the long way.” With a wink, she slams the screen door shut once he’s on the other side. “Nothing suspicious going on here!”

Being a terrible liar, Hanji has long since given up on hiding surprises.

Levi walks over to the car, dried leaves crunching underneath his boots, and it’s then that he realizes he can’t linger outside, not without his jacket. It’s cold as all hell, so he shoves his hands into his pockets as he trudges across the clearing, towards his car.

The sun is near setting, orange and red giving into blue and gray, and the unsettling feeling that comes every time he reminds himself he has to sleep here has arrived. It had taken him six months to look at the house after purchasing it, and two more before stepping foot inside of it. Now he has no choice but to sleep in the bed he’s made.

He tells himself that fear has nothing to do with it. He’s an adult, and he hardly has thoughts of monsters hiding underneath his bed. The real anxiety comes in the form of solitude. In his old tiny apartment, they were two, and they were happy with bumping into each other every time they would try to get into the kitchen or bathroom.

This house is big and empty, even with the lively souls currently setting up some sort of party.

When he reaches the car, Levi opens the back door and pulls out the pizza boxes.

A particularly strong breeze blows away the napkins pinned to the boxes, and with a curse, Levi has no other choice but to pick them up. He’s still to go out and purchase some living essentials, but that can wait until tomorrow. For now, all he has are napkins to clean up the mess his friends are bound to leave behind.

Picking up those that don’t float into the forest, Levi shoves them in his pants’ pocket and turns to grab the boxes, but the brief sight of movement stops him.

His head whips to the side, certain that someone is standing there, but all he is met with are trees and Erwin’s pickup.

Car door still open, Levi leans against it, slowly inspecting his surroundings for what he assumes is the same intruder he had been informed of through the phantom call. He sees nothing but the play of shadows in the far off distance of the forest as the last rays of light begin to fade, the imposing mood of early night finally settling around him.

Another breeze and he’s aiming for the boxes again, but the sight of white jerks his attention towards the window on the top floor.

There’s nothing but white curtains swaying from his bedroom window.

After lingering for a couple of more seconds, Levi finally gets a firm hold on the pizza boxes, and shuts the car door with his foot.

Climbing the steps onto the porch, he casts the clearing and encroaching forest one final sweep, before deciding that he’s probably just on edge about sleeping in the middle of nowhere all by himself. He would much rather choose sleeping in the slums.

The door is yanked open before he can move another muscle, and the boxes are being taken from him while everyone shouts “Opa!” in unison.

A cake has been set out on the dining room table.

“What? You’re celebrating me getting out of your hair?”

“To a new beginning,” Petra says, smiling from ear to ear as she places down the pizzas next to the cake.

Every one smiles and nods in general agreement, but no one broadens on the subject. Smart people they are.

Time ticks by as they settle in front of the television, cradling pizza and cake while they watch the cheesiest movie Erd could find. _Surf Nazis_ is apparently a thing – a thing they watch in fast forward due to how horrible it is, but neither wanting to miss the ending.

“Want another beer?” Erwin asks, forcing Levi to look away from the screen, where sharks are currently invading an expensive looking mansion.

Less of a question and more of an invitation, Levi pushes himself up off the couch and follows Erwin into the kitchen, leaving the others to groan and laugh at the movie’s shitty effects.

Opening the fridge, Erwin pulls out two cans, casting one in Levi’s direction.

“How have you been feeling?” Erwin says, no preamble needed.

Levi opens his can while staring into the living room, where he sees sharks riding out a tornado. Aurou makes a comment that has Petra shoving her elbow into his side. Spending the night in good company, but they’ll eventually have to leave, and that’s exactly what Erwin is asking.

The moment they walk out the door will be the beginning of Levi’s first night alone in over two years.

“Fine,” he says, turning his sight towards the back door. There’s nothing but darkness there, now.

Another round of raucous laughter has Erwin chuckling, and he walks around the counter to grab Levi’s sleeve and tug him outside. They make sure to grab their jackets on the way out.

The last time they took a walk had been ten years ago on Coney Island, and they had shared a lot more than just their fries and corndogs. Still, a breakup, new relationships, and a wedding later, Erwin Smith remains a constant in Levi’s life, an unmovable rock.

Deciding that it’s too dark to venture out towards the creek, they settle down on the steps, under the cover of stars that shine down from the perfect circle that is the clearing.

Nothing is said for a while, and the silence is only interrupted by the constant hollering that bleeds out of the living room.

“If it gets too much to handle, just let me know,” Erwin says, putting down his beer, mostly because it’s too cold out to keep a can in hand. “I’ll drive up here.”

“You’re two hours away,” he says, doing the same and tucking his hands inside his jacket’s pockets. 

In a way, it’s his version of an accusation. Erwin had been the one to insist that he get a change of scenery, and the one to choose the house, simply because Levi had been reluctant to do so. Levi had grown fond of his tiny apartment. It was his. The most treasured of memories had been built within those four spotless walls.

“Then give me a call. Or Hanji. Hell, anyone.” He puts a hand over Levi’s knee and gives it a squeeze. “Getting acclimated won’t be easy, but you don’t have to suffer through it alone.”

Levi nearly scoffs, but refrains from doing so. “I watched my husband die,” he says, his voice sounding eerily calm even to him. “I can handle sleeping in my own bedroom.”

Turning his face skyward, Erwin frowns. “Don’t do this.” And there it is, the same patronizing tone that drove Levi to ending their relationship. He wanted a partner, not someone to portray a father figure. Lust hadn’t been enough to keep him by his side.

Moonlight reflects off something in the pickup’s windshield, and that, in turn, makes Levi look down at the simple, silver band on his finger. The same has been there since his wedding some four years ago, and he hasn’t had the heart to remove it.

He never grows attached to material objects because those can be easily taken away, but he never would have guessed that the same laws were true pertaining actual human beings. Levi didn’t cry when his father died, somewhat decent person that he was. Levi cried when the white casket had been lowered into the mud and everyone but Erwin had gone.

In a long list of lovers, romantic and nonromantic alike, Eren had been his all.

“That apartment was a tomb,” Erwin says, looking at Levi. “You never would have moved on.”

“I’ve moved on.”

“Burying your grief underneath piles of work does not equate to you moving on, Levi. Take this opportunity to start anew. I’m not telling you to put yourself out there just yet, but at least try to walk past it.”

“Sure, but let’s throw him out into the wilderness, maybe let him get eaten by a bear, and that will surely equate to him moving the fuck on. I fail to see your logic.”

Rubbing his palms against the fabric of his jeans, Erwin hums with mild amusement. “You need fresh air.”

“What I need is a good fuck.” The words are out before he can stop them, but at that point he couldn’t really care less. It’s not a whole truth, but it’s not a whole lie, either. “I need,” he lets the sentence drop because no good will come of it, not with the way Erwin is looking at him with nothing but naked concern.

Try as he may, Levi is unable to pull away when Erwin presses his hand to Levi’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he says, tracing his thumb along his chin.

“I don’t mean you,” and that is a lie. “Forget this conversation happened.”

“Not this time. We’re not going to continue ignoring these things.”

“What things, Erwin? There’s nothing there.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Levi glares at him, but doesn’t refute the fact that he’s right. He doesn’t regret his decision. “I’ll survive,” he says instead, and looks over his shoulder, towards the yawning interior of the tiny house. “If I can’t sleep, I’ll just email you the reports.” He turns back to Erwin. “I promise not to kill myself.” 

On both occasions, he’s been too much of a coward to pull the trigger.

•••

Levi shuts the front door at a quarter past two in the morning, simultaneously pleased and troubled at having been left alone in such a solitary place.

First, he takes a long, hot shower, and slips into a pair of brand new pajamas, curtesy of Gunther. Both the tank top and shorts are too big on him, and they cling awkwardly to the angles of his body, but the fabric is soft and comfortable, so he’ll deal with it. It may be cold enough to require warmer clothing, but Levi figures he can abuse the heater on his first night.

Setting water to boil over the stove, he makes his rounds before turning in, making sure that all windows are shut, curtains drawn. It wouldn’t do to have any rodents eat their way inside. 

Afterwards, he does the dishes, cleans the counters, and it is while sweeping the floor that the kettle begins to whistle.

Levi prepares a cup of black tea, strong, with cream and sugar. He sets it aside in order to run a rag across the stove, making sure to leave no residue behind.

When certain that nothing else on the first floor requires his attention, Levi shuts off the light, takes his tea, and heads upstairs.

The floorboards creak and groan with each step he takes, and his eye nearly twitches in irritation. He likes perfection, and he – along with the gratuitous help of Erwin – spared no expense in the restoration of this house. There shouldn’t even be a blemish on its walls, no chip of the paint.

His bedroom, however, is impeccable. Small and simple, with only the things he needs most: a bed, a dresser, a mirror, a closet, a desk, and a bay window facing the front of the house.

Walking to the side of the bed, he turns on the lamp, and frowns at the rumpled state of his bed sheets. He only spares it a passing thought, wondering if anyone had come upstairs while he was out with Erwin.

Levi puts down his tea on the bedside table in order to draw the curtains of the bay window, but he ends up lingering longer than he expects. There isn’t much to see, looking out into the night, but the moon’s silver glow proves strangely calming to the blank chaos in the back of his head, not unlike white noise.

The forest is dark and dead, its trees impenetrable. The possibility of there being any sort of game is slim, and he has never been one for hunting, but he entertains the thought of giving it a shot. Not that he has any idea what to do with any animal after he’s killed it. He wouldn’t mount it on his mantelpiece, or eat it. Killing for the sake of killing holds no appeal either.

When his sight begins to blur, demanding that he sleep, Levi finally shuts the curtains and returns to his bed, his tea now cold. He considers leaving the cup there until morning, when he’ll take it downstairs and wash it before breakfast, but the smell won’t let him. 

With a sigh, he takes the cup, and trudges down into the kitchen, not bothering with the lights.

Cup rinsed and set out to dry, Levi triple checks that the front door is locked. He jostles it, rattles the doorknob, knocks on the wood, and the wood knocks back.

Levi stills.

His fist suspended in mid-knock, he turns around to look at the stairs.

An echo, maybe, because the sound had come from the second floor – not the door he had just knocked on. He knocks again, and granted, there it is, an answering knock that bounces around the house’s walls.

Levi rolls his eyes in favor of sighing with relief, because he’s too old to be getting spooked by ancient wooden houses.

Running a hand through his hair, he heads up the stairs and locks his bedroom door.

He scratches at his chin, makes a mental note to shave come morning, and stops at the foot of the bed. 

He stops because the bed sheet is neatly spread, tucked into its corners, not a wrinkle on it. He stops because the round bed side rug is folded in half, as if someone has accidentally kicked it. 

By all means, it looks like he had taken the time to properly lay out his room before going downstairs, and while Levi is well aware of his involuntary compulsion for perfection, he knows for a fact that he hadn’t smoothed out the bed sheet. 

He doesn’t ask the question. It doesn’t even materialize in his mind because, in doing so, he would be accepting that he doesn’t know the source, doesn’t have an explanation for such a bizarre happening.

The middle of the forest, with a two hour drive towards civilization, is a very bad place to be if he doesn’t have an answer.

Fuck Erwin and his bright ideas.

Levi refuses to move when he hears the knock again, and this time, it’s right outside his bedroom door.

The doorknob rattles and twists, clicks open, and the door creaks.

It’s a nightmare. He’s had too much to drink. It has to be _something_ because his friends wouldn’t pull this sort of thing on him. Plus, there is no other way to explain how the room gets this cold. Maybe the heater broke down, but –

“Oh! Fancy seeing you here.”

Standing stock still, in skimpy shorts and a loose tank top, in a cold room, Levi finally comes to a conclusion. He drank too much, passed out, Erwin or Mike hauled his ass into bed, and now he’s having a nightmare.

“Uh, Levi?”

No other explanation, because the dead don’t walk, and they obviously don’t talk.

The dead don’t walk into one’s room, wearing jeans and a sweater, looking healthy despite the darkness of the room.

“Is… everything okay? You’re kinda scaring me here.”

Levi’s scaring him.

His dead husband just walks into his bedroom, and _Levi_ is the one scaring _him_.

“Say something, will ya’?”

“I need a drink,” is what Levi says. 

What he doesn’t add is that he also may need a long stay at the nearest mental institution; god rest his soul.


	3. Insect Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday, everyone.~ 
> 
> Before we start off with this chapter, I'd like to show you guys [this amazing piece of art](http://catos.co.vu/post/83901852676) tumblr user Horusson created for the fic! Look at it. Bask in its glory for a while. Embrace it. 
> 
> Figured I'd announce that the tag **fic: house of echoes** is now a thing I track; and you can also find my blog over at [jaegersaurus](http://jaegersaurus.tumblr.com/), where I complain about my general writing process a lot.
> 
> I'd also like to thank all the lovely people who have dropped both kudos and reviews! /smooches you all.
> 
> Enjoy the read!

Levi doesn’t move, unsure whether he wants to or not. 

The line between distress and melancholia is a thin one in this situation, and despite the old claim that people will fall into the arms of their loved one were they to return from the dead, Levi isn’t buying it.

Anger wins over.

He said his goodbyes two years ago. 

Levi mourned, stood over the closed casket with clenched fists. He made peace with the fact that he would never again lay eyes on that smile reminiscent of sunshine. He accepted that he would never again look into the blue-green eyes that reflected summertime starlight like mirrors. Levi spent days, weeks, months agonizing the loss of the one person who meant the world to him.

This apparition is nothing but abhorrent.

He has no wish to embrace whatever this thing is. He refuses to believe it is anything more than a phantasm, or the beginning of a much more serious internal problem.

Any thought of sleep now dispelled, Levi walks out of his room, mindful to not touch Eren – _the entity_ , he corrects himself – on the way out.

“Hey, wait up!”

Levi grimaces when a slew of memories ram into him, incited by those words. Laughter always tended to follow them.

On the first landing, he hits the light switch in the kitchen and rummages through the cabinet beneath the sink for the bottle of vodka Hanji had given him. He’s going to need at least five of those in order to rinse out the bad taste this nightmare will leave behind.

“Look, I know this is a little… sudden, but I really wanted to see you.”

“No,” Levi says, turning towards Eren and wielding the bottle like a weapon. “No. This isn’t some joke, because I held your body. I saw you die.” A ball begins forming in his throat, but he swallows down whatever emotions are threatening to choke him. He keeps his words neutral. “Get out of my house.”

Staring the apparition head on, Levi finally realizes something he hadn’t noticed before. There are strips of cloth wrapped around its head. One over the eyes, another over the nose, and another over the mouth. They look to have been white, once upon a time, but now they’re tattered and frayed along the edges, yellow and beige from age and grim.

Levi doesn’t know how he can tell because he clearly can’t see it, but he can feel Eren smile behind the shabby rag. “I knew it would be too much to ask for a little love and affection.”

Slamming the bottle down on the island countertop, Levi scoffs. “You’re lucky I don’t set your sorry ass on fire. Whatever you are.” If it can even be set on fire.

Deciding that standing in the middle of his kitchen staring at the thing will amount to nothing, he crosses the kitchen to get himself a glass.

From out the corner of his eye, he can see Eren shrug and shove his hands in his pockets.

The action is so mundane, so like him, that Levi forsakes his quest for a cup, and heads right back for the counter, opting to drink directly from the bottle.

“Nice place you got here,” Eren says, and the way he looks around the room is unnerving with the barrier over his eyes. “You were always into smaller places.”

Levi makes a noncommittal sound as he uncaps the bottle and takes a swig.

“We never could have afforded this,” Eren says.

The words cut deep for an unfathomable reason; most likely because they feel too real, too concrete for a ghost to mutter sullenly. “Erwin helped,” Levi says.

“Oh.”

Eyes trained on the bottle, Levi runs his finger along the rim before thinking better of it. Now he’ll have to wash it in order to get rid of any germs. One would be surprised just how much bacteria a single fingerprint leaves behind. “You’ve got five minutes to tell me what you want. Then, I want you out. Never want to see you again.”

Ghosts can’t look dejected, not when the majority of their face is covered.

“I had the chance to come see you, so I did,” Eren says, as if jumping planes or however one travels in such a scenario is as easy as walking across the street to visit the neighbor.

“How’d you know I was here rather than our apartment?”

“Our?”

Levi turns his attention towards him and frowns. “Force of habit.”

“I went, but it was empty. It’s really not that hard to move around backstage,” he says, taking several steps closer to the counter. Levi tenses but doesn’t move away. “It really _is_ me.”

“You’re dead.”

“I know,” Eren says, probably offering a sad smile. “It’s not as bad as everyone makes it out to be, though.”

When he pulls out a stool and takes it, Levi stands up and walks away from the island counter, leaving him behind. 

He can’t deal with this. If this is a nightmare, he needs to wake up, because this fabrication of Eren is too perfect to keep ignoring.

Hitting the living room light, Levi sits down on the couch. He doesn’t bother with the television or anything of the sort; he simply crosses his arms over his chest and stares into space. It’s too cold, and he should really check on the heater to see if it’s properly running.

It’s a couple of minutes before Eren joins him, sitting beside him, but making sure to leave a healthy amount of space between them. Levi can still feel the cold rolling off him in supple waves. Cold like the dead are cold.

Repugnant, disgusting, atrocious.

Painful.

“Even in death you’re selfish,” he says, tightening the arms to his chest. “All those times you said you’d come back to haunt me whenever I made you take out the trash.”

Eren makes a noise that sounds sort of like a chuckle. “You still loved me. Shortcomings and all.”

“Brat.”

Not meant as an endearment, the grin Eren wears says that he took it as much. “Miss me?”

Levi doesn’t deign him with an answer. Of course he fucking does. Levi misses him with the energy of a thousand exploding stars. He misses waking up to a warm bed, and badly made pancakes. He misses the ability to smile and laugh, to grant himself the leisure of happiness.

“I think I can visit you every once in a while,” Eren says, bringing up his feet and pulling his knees to his chest. “We can watch movies, or go for a walk out in the forest.”

“No,” Levi says, the finality eating away at the scabs of his two-year-old wounds.

“But, Levi—”

“I still don’t like repeating myself.”

“Fine,” he says, snappishly. “I’ll go see Mikasa, or Armin. Maybe they can appreciate the effort.”

“Mikasa would shoot you on sight, and you’ll send Armin into a panic attack.” No maybes, just hard truths.

A thick silence descends between them, suffocating and inescapable.

Eren is the one to interrupt it when Levi unwraps his arms and takes the bottle to his mouth again. 

“Death is awfully lonely.”

•••

“Eren was never meant to be lonely,” Levi tells Petra in a hushed murmur. He remembers, quite clearly, the sense of sorrow that had gripped him at Eren’s confession.

The ticking clock is once again deafening, but neither of them seems to care very much for it.

Petra is still looking him with a face intended to be blank, but her doe-eyes betray her. “It’s obvious that you and Eren share a deep bond.”

“He’s my husband,” Levi remarks, deadpan. 

In front of him, Eren barks out a sudden laugh. “Wasn’t this supposed to be a chat between friends?” he says, casually pacing the room with his hands in his pockets. “Sounds to me like she wants to psychoanalyze you.”

Petra looks down at her lap. “Was, because he’s gone now,” she says, slowly, and clinically. “Would you care to tell me how you met him?”

Levi no longer wallows in the memories prior to Eren’s death, but he figures he can make the exception. He’ll be dead in a matter of hours, anyway. Maybe, talk of sunshine and green pastures will settle the white noise inside of his head.

“I was seventeen when I met him. Eren was in the second grade,” he says.

“He was eight?”

“Nine year difference.”

“All right,” she says, letting go of a measure sigh.

“I was a high school student in need of cash to take my date out on weekends. The Jaegers hired me as their babysitter. Still think they were stupid for it, but they were good people. Not everyone would have given me a break back then. It was an easy enough job, too. His sister, despite being a year younger than Eren, was severely protective of him. All I had to do was sit back with a can of root beer and watch television while Mikasa and Eren played up in their rooms.”

Levi rolls his head, attempting to work out the knots on his shoulders.

“The second time I babysat, the brat joined me. I helped him out with his homework.”

“Tracing dotted lines that shaped out the letters of the alphabet,” Eren says, rolling his eyes. “Good thing you were a rocket scientist.”

Ignoring him, Levi continues. “Long story short, I grew up, went to college, got a part-time job, but I’d still drop by the Jaeger’s to say hi, especially after Grisha walked out on them. I would help Carla with whatever housework she needed done.”

He watched Eren grow up, saw him turn from a lanky kid to an even lankier teenager with a terrible attitude. Detention for talking back, suspension for getting into fights, Eren began to act out when he realized that daddy wasn’t coming home, and so Levi intervened. Levi became a willing mentor, a constant for a troubled youth.

“Respect, admiration, hero-worship; call it whatever, and I really thought that was all Eren had for me.” He licks his lips. “Until one day, he put a hand on my knee and slowly trailed it upward, ghosting over the inside of my thigh. It was the day after you and I called it quits,” Levi tells Petra, and kudos to her for keeping a straight face. “He claimed it to be comfort because it was only fair he return the favor.”

_You were there when dad left, now it’s time to return the favor._

The overwhelming desire that had lit up in his gut shamed him. He tried telling himself that it was longing born from heartache, but he knew better. Eren was young and handsome, energetic, enthusiastic, headstrong – but he was also nine years younger.

“How old was he when this happened?”

“Sixteen,” he says. “I was working on a fast food joint. I was twenty five.” If she wants to ask stupid questions, he’ll give stupid answers. Petra knows all of this, and her patronizing tone of voice only fuels his annoyance.

“Did the situation escalate?”

“No,” Eren says. “Apparently I was too young to understand how dicks work.”

_You’re no better than my father. All you had to say was no._

“I walked out,” Levi says. “Didn’t see him for another two years. During that time, Erwin and I landed our current jobs. We tried for a relationship; you know how that turned out.”

“What happened after your two year absence?”

“We fought. Told me I was an asshole for being a coward and abandoning him.” Levi scratches his chin. “Later, we fucked in the backseat of his car. And then at his dorm, and then at my office.”

“I remember that,” Eren says, and he moves from the side of the cell to sit next Levi. He leans into him, head resting over his shoulder. “It was amazing.”

They fucked, they kissed, they dated, they fell in love.

“Were you still seeing Erwin when this happened?”

Eren snorts, and Levi glares at Petra. “Yes,” he says, but he has no delusions that she would even begin to understand the delicate agreement between the three of them. “He didn’t mind it. We eventually ended the relationship, but he and I were – _are_ – close.”

“Did this cause any sort of rift between the three of you?”

“No,” is all Levi offers.

When she realizes that he isn’t going to broaden on the subject, Petra clears her throat and tries a different question. “The relationship between you and Eren; how did it progress?”

“Normally,” Levi says, looking down at the mop of long brown hair on his shoulder. “Neither of us proposed, but it happened,” he recalls fondly. “It was the Christmas before he graduated college.”

The Christmas party had ended and everyone had gone home, and Erwin was in the kitchen making the three of them some hot chocolate.

 _Can you see us growing old together?_ Eren had asked, nuzzling the side of Levi’s face. _We should._

“We got married three years later, the day after his birthday. We got an apartment and adopted a cat.”

“The same apartment where the incident took place,” Petra says, nodding her head. “This happened two years after moving in.”

Levi shuts his eyes when Eren’s cold hand lands on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“After living in the same routine for so long, in which Eren left for work as I got home, it was strange to walk through the apartment door and not be greeted by a hug and kiss. It was strange that the cat wasn’t lounging on the table, and stranger yet was the smell of burning food on the stove.”

Levi fears the image will never be burned away from his brain. He remembers, acutely, the searing sense of fear that quickly became numbness, the only thing that allowed him to act accordingly.

No one will ever take away the sight of Eren on the floor of their bedroom with deep gashes along his chest, puncture wounds on his neck, and purple grooves around his waist, as if he’d been wrapped in rope. Levi will never be able to erase the gurgled sound of choking on blood, the faint whimpers because Eren was still _alive_ despite being gone, his eyes glassy and unseeing.

The hot stickiness of his blood – he can still feel it seeping through the fabric of his pants, squelching between his fingers as he held Eren’s head on his lap.

By this point, Petra no longer interrupts with intrusive questions, so he continues telling the story.

•••

Levi remembers his death. How gruesome it had been.

“You’re crying,” Eren whispers, and Levi doesn’t bother correcting him because he isn’t, in fact, crying. His cheeks are dry, and his sight is crystal clear. “I should have stayed away…”

Levi doesn’t answer.

Pushing himself onto his feet, he walks into the kitchen and sets the bottle of vodka on the countertop. He turns on the faucet, shoves his hands underneath the water and scrubs. Scrub, scrub, scrub. There’s no blood, but he can still feel it, still smell it, and it makes him ill.

What if he got it on the couch? Or on the carpet? Is it on the bottle, the faucet, going down the sink? He should probably clean those up. Wipe them down until they’re free of the pollution—

Levi jerks away when Eren’s hand touches his elbow. “Don’t,” he snaps, and the urge to hit him is overwhelming.

The feeling of anger, of ire, is biblical. Blinding hot rage takes him and all he wants is to grip that pretty little neck and wring the life out of it all over again. This cuts deeper than betrayal.

“Get out,” Levi says, and he’s genuinely surprised at how even his voice remains.

Eren is holding his hands out, like he expected for Levi to hit him, and the thought has bile building in his stomach. Never would Levi raise a hand towards anyone, much less Eren, and yet here he is. The urge to maim disturbs him, but more disturbing yet, is the fact that he wouldn’t have minded. Eren is dead.

_Eren is dead._

This isn’t him; this is some kind of fucked up hallucination created to torment him, to break him further than he has before. This is a nightmare that’s tapping into his suppressed memories and emotions and seducing him to give into his darker urges. His mind needs to vent, his hands need to do, and the mixture of all of these components is dangerous.

“You were the one who abandoned me,” Levi says, against his better judgment. There’s no grief, no regret, no anger; just an eerie sense of calm acceptance.

Eren looks towards the door and clenches his fists, the same way he always did when he didn’t want to fight. “Now we’re even,” he says after a long beat of silence. He shrugs.

Levi’s fist twitches involuntarily.

Eren shrugs again. “Smithers isn’t here, is she?”

The question catches him off guard, but he shakes his head. “She was missing when I found you,” he says, recalling their tabby cat. 

Both the door and windows had been locked, and he really has no idea what happened to her. In more ways than one, the cat had been a substitute for a child of sorts. He had been too grief-stricken to even search for her after Eren’s death.

Eren then turns his head towards the stairs. “I don’t know who did it,” he says.

Levi is hyperaware of his own blink, because asking Eren about his murderer hadn’t crossed his mind. Too wrapped up in the denial of this being real, he didn’t even think about the very real possibilities presented here.

He doesn’t want to press on, because doing so will seal his fate. Asking questions will grant the specter a distinct kind of authority over Levi’s state of mind, but curiosity killed the cat.

“Do you remember anything?” he asks, moving back over the sink and holding his hands underneath the water again. It feels icy, but he doesn’t care. A physical pain is always welcome over an emotional one.

This time, Eren keeps his distance. “I was making lasagna. Mom’s recipe,” he says, a hint of warmth coloring his words. “Smithers wouldn’t stop meowing for some reason, and I heard her hissing in the bedroom.” Eren lowers his head, and wraps his arms around himself. “That’s it. I went into the bedroom, and that’s it. Everything felt extremely hot, and then extremely cold, and I remember thinking that the lasagna would get burned.”

The knot is back, but thankfully the water offers some relief.

“I’ll go if I bother you this much,” Eren says.

Levi curses under his breath, because the complete sound of defeat is so wrong in his voice.

“Tell me why you’re wearing those things,” Levi says. He will send him away, in a moment, but first he has to know. “Why can I hear you, and why can you see me with those?”

Looking directly at Levi, Eren picks up an excess piece of fabric that hangs over his shoulder. He thoughtfully twirls it around his finger, but then he drops his hand. “There’s a price to pay for every crossing. Luckily, in the afterlife, it’s pretty damn easy to get back what you’ve lost.”

The idea of digging up the pain of facing Eren after he thought him gone, and yet being unable to see his eyes and smile once more is the cruelest type of torture. It’s like being given a last meal, and being too sick to taste it.

For the best, Levi tells himself. God knows his resolve would vanish were he to lay eyes on the things that made Eren who he was, the boy he adored. “Leave,” he says, and this time, he leaves no room for hesitation.

Levi hates that he can’t see yet he can feel the way Eren’s bottom lip quivers, the heartbreak in his chest, the sadness on his fingertips. The mere thought of hurting Eren sickens him, but there is no other way. He has to dismiss this apparition, cast it out in the name of sanity.

Eren is gone within the blink of an eye, and the coldness of the room is gone with him.

Alone, Levi grips the sink’s ledge, and kicks the cabinet with enough force to hurt his toes.

•••

Normally, catching Erwin off guard does a thing or two at lighting up Levi’s mood. No such luck today, considering he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep in over forty eight hours.

“I saw you six hours ago,” Erwin says, rather stupidly really, because Levi knows how to tell time. Erwin and the others left his house at two in the morning, and it is now eight. “The idea of a promotion was for you to be able to work from home, you know.”

“Fuck you and your shitty ass ideas, Smith,” Levi says, uncaring of the wide eyes now turning to him in alarm. “Fuck them hard.” Everyone should be used to Levi’s language by now, anyways.

Unable to sleep, or better said, unwilling to, Levi did the next best thing.

While brewing a fresh pot of coffee, he took a long cold shower, and washed his hair. Once out, he slipped into his suit, packed his suitcase with all of his unfinished paperwork, filled a thermos with coffee, threw it in his car, locked the house, and drove. He drove one hour through backcountry roads, and one hour on the highway until he reached the spiffy building he’s called his workplace for the past ten years or so.

“I want an apartment in the city,” he continues, both of them getting into the elevator. “I’ll stay here on weekdays, and spend every other weekend in the house. Less car fumes, save the planet.”

Erwin tugs on the end of his suit jacket, brushes off invisible wrinkles before pressing the button to the top floor. “What brought this on?”

“The fact that I had to drive two hours to get to my damn office.”

The glare of lights irritates him all the more, making his eyes ache and burn from the strain. A full thermos of freshly brewed coffee and two extra cups once at the building seems to be doing nothing. He’s awake, sure, but he feels like death incarnate. 

To top it all off, he can’t remember if he shut the percolator off or not. With any luck, he didn’t, and he’ll return to nothing but a pile of ash. He can use the insurance money to get himself a nicer place in the city.

“Did you even get any sleep?” The question comes with a large hand, one that cups Levi’s chin and turns his face from side to side. Something about Erwin’s fingers always proved soothing. “You look pale. Are you sick?”

Levi swats his hand away and rubs his eyes. “Not in the traditional sense, it would seem.” Erwin’s hand comes back, but now his fingers are carding through Levi’s hair.

The type of relationship they have is a strange one at best, complicated at worst. Childhood friends turned ex-lovers turned business partners, he and Erwin have a long and extensive history of fuck-ups and some pretty good times. 

And to be brutally honest, there are dregs of lust buried somewhere deep inside of them both. At six two, a blue-eyed blonde with the physique equivalent to Captain America and charisma to boot, there isn’t a soul who wouldn’t want to bang Erwin Smith six ways from Sunday. Even Eren, at one point, developed a crush on the guy, which led to some very awkward conversations and a handful of nights to remember.

Erwin is composed of countless of layers, from the charming boss, to the cold and calculating asshole, to the overwhelming empath, to the mouth-watering sex god. He’s complicated, and it’s only natural that his relationships are complicated too. Mike, his current partner, is well aware of Levi’s role in Erwin’s life, the same way Eren had been aware of Erwin’s role in his. Sex may no longer be part of the equation, but there’s a deeper, more profound bond that holds them together.

“You can stay at my office if you want the company,” Erwin says, dragging his thumb along Levi’s temple.

He’s also physical. 

Contrary to his vicious appearance, Levi is someone who thrives on physical contact, which is why he and Eren worked so well. Only, Eren had no idea how to curb his need to constantly touch in public.

Levi doesn’t have to voice his acceptance, and follows Erwin out the moment the elevator doors open, suitcase in a death grip.

The final floor of the building is the executives’ floor, comprised only of private offices and a conference room. Chic and minimalist, there’s a calming sense to the décor that proves pleasing to the human eye. White walls and black accents, floor-to-ceiling windows that face the neighboring skyscrapers and the busy city life down below; it’s the usual metro set-up for business powerhouses.

Erwin’s office is warmer, more cohesive in its colors. Dark gray walls and black furniture. The place looks professional; a work office rather than a magazine spread. It also smells like lemon furniture polish and disinfectant spray; all pleasing smells to Levi’s senses.

“Have you eaten anything?” Erwin asks, closing the door behind him. He walks over to his desk and places the suitcase on the floor, then rummages through a desk drawer for antibacterial wipes. He uses one to clean his suitcase before placing it on the desk.

Erwin is often clean and organized, but unlike Levi, he isn’t neurotic about it. He won’t go out of his way to make sure that everything is spotless. This little show is another gesture to make Levi comfortable, and Levi isn’t sure whether to be insulted or grateful. He decides not to mention it, and sits on the chaise longue, suitcase on his lap.

“Vodka, coffee and a doughnut.”

Contents of his suitcase suddenly forgotten, Erwin looks up at him, mindful to keep his expression mildly concerned. “Good, I only had coffee and a doughnut myself before heading out.” Manipulative and crafty asshole; his words are always his weapon of choice. “Anything specific you’d like for breakfast?”

“I’ll take whatever you have,” he says. He hardly thinks he can keep anything down if he wanted to, but it’s worth a try.

Claiming to be in the mood for fast food, Erwin makes a quick call to the nearest establishment that does deliveries. Twenty minutes later, there are two breakfast platters set in front of them, and they eat in silence.

What little appetite Levi had vanishes at the memory of Saturday mornings as a married man. He and Eren always took the time to head out and have breakfast, catch up on a busy week’s worth of news. Then they would go grocery shopping, before coming back and settling down for a lazy day watching bad movies on TV.

Levi smears the syrup over his pancakes with his fork, but he only eats his bacon and biscuit.

Erwin watches him.

The question is there, lingering on his face, regardless of how careful he is to keep it pleasant and unbothered.

“Adapting to new places used to be easier when I was younger,” Levi says, putting down his fork and reaching for his orange juice. “It’s louder than it should be.”

Erwin huffs out a muted laugh and nods his head. He cuts a neat triangle off his pancake and takes it to his mouth. He uses butter rather than syrup as a topping. “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you someplace closer that isn’t made of wood.”

Pushing away his plate, Levi leans back in the chair, cradling the cup’s rim using only his fingertips. He sloshes his juice around, hoping that the ice will water down the strong taste. “That would be much appreciated.”

“I’ll get in contact with my realtor when I head home tonight. You’re more than welcome to stay with Mike and me if you’re unwilling to make the drive back.”

Levi wonders if one day Erwin will get tired of his shit. “I don’t want to hear you two going at it.”

“I promise to behave myself,” Erwin says, his smile blinding. “House or apartment?”

“The smaller the better,” Levi says. Less doors, less windows, less noises without a source. He would rather take the sound of cars and trains than those of the wind and creaking wood.

“So a penthouse would be out of the question.” At Levi’s deadpan, Erwin continues, “Just joking.”

Taking one last sip of his juice, Levi places it on Erwin’s desk. “What on Earth possessed you to drop me off in the middle of nowhere?” There’s no rhyme or reason to it, no logic. Erwin is a man who runs on ulterior motives, someone who sees ahead of the game, and Levi may not be a genius of his level, but he’s usually just a step or two behind. “I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Peace of mind,” Erwin says. His frown is more of a sad smile that touches his eyes. “I thought a break from the things that reminded you of him would help you move on.”

“I had moved on.”

“Had?”

After a moment’s thought, Levi discovers that his phrasing was poorly executed. That single word is loaded.

“Quit butting in on shit that doesn’t concern you.”

“This concerns me greatly, Levi,” he says. Erwin shuts the takeout contained and puts the fork over it, apparently done with his breakfast. “You show up at my building with nothing but alcohol and caffeine in your stomach, and not a single hour of sleep. I haven’t seen you this way since the day you called me to your apartment.”

Out of panic, after finding Eren’s body, Erwin had been the first person he called. Not the police.

“What happened?” Erwin presses.

“I saw him. I had a nightmare,” Levi says, too quickly for Erwin to buy it. “Here, I could go for a walk. I’m not up to walking through a forest in the dead of night.” He looks off towards the window, where gray clouds are beginning to creep up. “I was about to lose my fucking marbles.”

Not a lie, and Erwin has picked up on the honesty. “Odd of you to open up,” he says, and runs a hand over his mouth. “You look scared.”

The words are soft and poignant, out of place, and they take Levi by surprise, a feat not easily achieved.

Part of him wants to snap at him for it, to defend his dignity, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that Erwin is right. That’s it right there – he’s scared.

Knowing that what they say in private will remain so, Levi lets it go. Who needs a shrink when he was Smith.

“It felt real.”

“Nightmares often do.” And there it is again, that tone. It’s not patronizing, per se, but it reeks of suspicion. Erwin is trying to connect the dots with what little information Levi is giving him, and again, he realizes, that he let his tongue slip. He hadn’t slept last night, and yet he’s talking about nightmares.

Deciding that the safest thing to do is keep his mouth shut, Levi does so. He watches Erwin straighten up in the chair once he realizes that he’s been caught while hot on the trail for the truth. That doesn’t stop the smug smile that quietly tugs at the corner of his plump lips.

“I have work to do,” Erwin says, but his tone isn’t dismissive. “You’re welcomed to join me if you need to get your reports done.”

Levi debates whether he would prefer working in his office or here, but in the end, he decides being in good company. He won’t be able to take the silence while sleep deprived. Besides, Erwin’s chaise longue is a lot more comfortable than his, if he body decides to call it a day.


	4. Friendly Haunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup, guys? How's life treatin' ya? Speedy update because why not. Don't be fooled by the lighthearted fluff that is the entirety of this chapter, folks. Enjoy the cavity-inducing content!
> 
> And for anyone who is interested, there's now a [fanmix](http://8tracks.com/shotgunsinlace/echoes) for this fic in case anyone wants to get in the ~mood~. Note that I'm not specifying what kind of mood. Huehuehue.

Levi returns a week later to find Ashbury Lane exactly how he left it, frozen in its perfect circle of dry grass. No impromptu fire had consumed it, as he had hoped for, so it is safe to assume that he did shut off the percolator before heading into the city. He doesn’t mind it as much as he thought he would, because an agreement has been made.

Currently, there are no apartment options that fit Levi’s requests, but the list of standards currently sits on the realtor’s desk. The moment an offer becomes available, his number will be the first to be dialed. In the meantime, Levi will alternate between spending weekends in the countryside, and weekdays in the city, where he’ll crash on Erwin’s couch.

Cutting off the ignition, Levi stays behind the wheel for a good while longer.

Nothing is waiting for him on the other side of that door. There will be nobody there; nothing but a thin layer of dust he will gladly spend his time cleaning.

Leaving the suitcase on the passenger’s seat, Levi gets out of his car and quickly walks up to the porch, the cold wind of an autumn afternoon biting at his neck.

His breathing calm and nerves in check, Levi unlocks the door and pushes it open, telling himself over and over again that nothing is waiting for him on the other side. If he acts normally, if he pretends that nothing will spook him, then nothing will. It’s as easy as that; the power of the mind.

What greet Levi are a cold house and the sound of a laugh track coming from the television in the living room.

Standing under the doorframe, he frowns at the young man sitting on his couch, with his feet propped up on the coffee table and crossed at the ankles. His fingers are drumming idly against the hoodie’s fabric that covers his stomach.

“Welcome home,” Eren says, looking away from the TV to smile at Levi.

“Fuck this.”

Keys gripped tight, Levi turns on his heels and marches right back outside.

He’ll drive right back out and check himself into the nearest hospital. This is stupid, ridiculous, obscene and impossible. People don’t come back from the dead. There are no such things as ghosts. And even if they were, they don’t spend their time lounging in one’s living rooms watching television.

He’ll call Erwin, tell him the truth, straight up. Tell him that he’s seeing and hearing things, that his brain somehow thinks that Eren is haunting him. Knowing Erwin, all he will do is nod, believe that Levi is seeing these things, and put him in a straight jacket. It’s an honest to god comfort by this point.

“Hey, wait!” Eren calls from the front door, and – fuck him – he can hear the heavy thump of his footsteps as he runs down the wooden steps. “Oh, come on!”

“Get the fuck out of my house, now, or so help me god I will burn this thing to the ground,” he says, his tone deceptively calm. There is no use for losing his cool; nothing can be achieved by that. Levi will approach the situation with a clear head, and one that is a little less skeptical.

“Your first attempt failed,” Eren says, bordering on petulant. “You left the coffee machine on.”

Levi stops walking, basking in the sliver of sunlight that cuts across his face. “And I assume you shut it off.”

“Well, yeah. It would suck to lose all of your things.”

Levi fights the urge to run a hand over his face, as well as the urge to yell. He opts to just stand there, letting the cold cling to his temper and drag it downward. He can hear the crunch of dead leaves coming from behind, but he still refuses to move. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Eren tries to touch him again.

“Will you come inside?” he pleads, the words squeezing around Levi’s heart like a fist. “It’s getting chilly out. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

Despite the anger and disbelief, the back of Levi’s eyes begin to burn.

His strength of will is his proudest trait, as he never caved into any sort of peer pressure during his younger years, or even as an adult. Once his mind is set, there is no force in heaven or hell that will be able to nudge it. But the hard fact of it is that Eren once meant more to him than his own life, and so he can only fight so long before he gives in.

Appalling reality or not, Levi has missed him, and he’s only human. A weak and cowardly human.

“Please? I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Eren says, and the wind carries his voice, making it sound tender and warm. “I’ll leave, okay? But just… come inside. Let me see that you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he snaps, turning towards the concealed face and swallowing bile at the realization that this entity is able to walk outside of the house as if it were nothing. He looks unnervingly tangible.

“You rushed out.”

“Yes, and it had everything to do with the fact that I had a conversation with my dead husband.”

Eren recoils, as if the mention of his death has stunned him. He cradles a hand against his chest, and pain that is now becoming familiar stings Levi’s chest. It’s a gesture he’s done since he was a child.

“I’ve missed you.”

The last of his resolve crumbles.

“I promise to leave, okay? For real. Just let me make you some tea, at least.”

Levi stares at him, gauging every shift and shiver in the surprisingly frail image in front of him. Eren is scratching at his cradled hand, looking off into the edge of the forest like a kid waiting to be yelled at.

It hurts because nothing has changed. It’s the same Eren, down to the minute gestures that would go unnoticed by everyone but Levi.

“Do you even remember how to make it?” Levi sneers. Accepting defeat does not mean he will do so gracefully.

“Of course!” Eren says, perking up like a puppy that has just been given a bone. “Right down to how much honey you like in it. Like riding a bike; you never really forget.”

Without waiting for another word, Eren turns on his heels and heads right for the house with an extra bounce in his step.

A happy haunt. 

Who would have thought that his life would ever reach this point?

Storing away his hesitance and clinging to his detached bravado, Levi steps inside the house and shuts the door behind him. He lets Eren move around the kitchen, pulling out a kettle and the can of tea leaves he keeps stored for emergencies, and heads towards the back of the house to turn on the heater.

When he returns, he finds the kettle on the stove, as well as Eren rinsing out a mug while humming a nondescript tune.

If it weren’t for the bandages around his head, Levi would bet his life that he had somehow stepped through time, into days where all was gentle and well.

“Time flows differently when you’re dead,” Eren says, serene. “I actually waited for you.” He chuckles, drying out the mug with the towel that hangs from the refrigerator door’s handle. “Thought that whoever had come for me would come for you, too.”

The hairs along the back of Levi’s neck stand on end.

He pretends to not be disturbed by the admission by focusing on pulling out a bar stool and sitting down on it, elbows resting on the countertop before he finally settles his attention to watching Eren work around the kitchen. 

“Turns out, if you’re a good enough person while alive, you get a chance to float around and spy on people before you get yanked away. Kind of like Pay-Per-View.”

He doesn’t talk for a while after that, and neither does Levi.

The kettle begins to whistle, but Eren is clinging to the edge of the sink, his head bowed.

“I never thought you were capable of crying,” he says, a hint above a whisper. “You rarely ever smiled; can count the times with one hand. The first time we had sex, our wedding, when I faked winning the lottery that one time… You were always so strong and I just… it felt like my heart was being ripped apart when I saw you lying in our bed with tear streaks on your cheeks.”

Levi clenches his fists hard enough to leave white crescents on his palms. “The tea,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. That moment of grief was supposed to have been private.

Without another word, Eren gets to it. Pouring the boiling water into the mug, he fills a ball-shaped strainer with leaves and drops it in. Thirty seconds later, he pulls it out, and drizzles a spoonful of honey into the tea. Lastly, he adds rock sugar, and stirs five times.

The sight warms Levi’s fingertips, because a kiss usually came afterwards. But not this time. Eren places the mug in front of him and steps away from the counter with a half smile. “Hope I still got it.”

A ghost that makes tea, and pretty damn good tea at that.

Levi hums his approval, enjoying the heat that swirls against his face and the aroma that dances around his nose. Not too bitter, not too sweet, just the right amount of steeping.

Before he can think better of it, he smiles into the mug.

Eren smiles right back. “Well?”

“It’s good,” Levi says, taking a careful sip as to not burn his tongue.

“They always get the good guys,” Eren says, momentarily confusing Levi. “I was offered a chance to stay around and I took it.”

Putting down the mug, the smile vanishes from Levi’s face. “Eren—”

“You’re too stubborn to reach out for help,” he says, probably because he’s already dead and knows that Levi won’t be able to kill him for it. “You’d rather suffer alone than burden others with your darker thoughts.”

“Stop.”

“You never let me see any of this.” He sounds upset, almost betrayed. “Seeing you cry told me that you aren’t invincible, Levi, that you feel sadness just like the rest of us and it pisses me off that we’ve known each other for years and you still didn’t open up to me.”

“You talk too much.”

“I’m not stupid. Selfish, maybe, yeah, because I know you did it to protect me or whatever but all I wanted was for you to let me in. All I wanted was to comfort you.”

Levi stares at him, cold and hard. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have, not with a ghost. “You did,” he admits. On more than one occasion. “It was basically the catalyst to our relationship.”

“Your breakup with Erwin does not count.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you still go to him when the shit hits the fan.”

Levi lifts an eyebrow and fights the urge to genuinely laugh. “You had no qualms about him when he fucked you silly.”

What little skin of Eren’s face he can see turns pink when he looks away. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“Erwin and I grew up together.”

“But I’m the one you married,” Eren snaps. “To think that you could have probably sat down and talked about our problems to me rather than him.”

“We did.”

“No, we didn’t. You always talked about _my_ problems, but never yours, as if you were some kind of burden to me.”

“Do you want me to apologize?” Levi says, shrugging as he takes a sip of his tea.

“Yes,” Eren says, unexpectedly.

“I would, but you’re dead and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

Eren looks torn between deciding if Levi is being serious or not. “I’m right here.”

Levi shakes his head, realization finally dawning on him. “You’re my conscience, trying to chew me up for all the shit I pulled while you were alive.” It makes perfect sense, really. “If it helps, I’ll drive up to your grave tomorrow and apologize.” He takes another sip of his tea, and when he lowers the mug, he notices the resigned look on Eren’s face.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

Nudging the half empty mug away from him, Levi says, “All too well. But you still loved me.”

Levi nearly starts when Eren is suddenly in front of him, leaning over the counter until his face is inches away. He grimaces at the proximity of the muddy blindfold, notices that the second one is meant to cover his ears, not his nose. Lastly, he notices Eren hesitantly pulling down the one covering his mouth.

He doesn’t know what he expected, but perfect, unblemished skin was not it. His lips are just as thin, just as soft looking as they used to be, and Levi feels a pang of longing right to the gut.

“I still do,” Eren says, and it’s refreshing to see his lips actually form the words.

Levi doesn’t move when Eren closes the rest of the space between them, pressing their mouths together in a feather light kiss. He’s cold as death, but Levi’s living warmth bleeds onto Eren’s face. It’s no different than it was two years go. It’s still just as sweet.

“Go rest,” Levi says once he pulls away, subjugating the urge to touch Eren’s face. “You’re done here. You deserve to kick back, enjoy the clouds, and drink all the chocolate milk you can handle, kid. Quit fussing over a bitter old man.”

Eren’s lips form a gentle smile, one Levi can’t help but kiss once more. “I thought I was just your conscience.”

“Nobody likes a smartass.”

“All right,” Eren concedes with a nod. “I’ll leave. As long as you don’t forget about me.”

“Couldn’t if I tried.”

With one last kiss, Eren is gone from sight.

•••

As it turns out, there are small clusters of civilization not far from the Lane.

A little rural town finds itself nestled among the trees and gray skies not twenty minutes from Levi’s house, with antiquated architecture and a pharmacy whose sign actually reads ‘drug store’. There’s a corner store, a post office, a police department smaller than his old apartment, and that’s it. 

Another five minute drive will lead him to rows of houses that belong in a Brothers’ Grimm tale. Levi mostly spots old timers out and about, the occasional adult, and barely any teenagers or children. No modern day young adult would want to waste their life away in such a small town, buried away behind a forest that probably interrupts cell phone signals more often than not.

The very air looks gray as the last wisps of morning fog fade away.

Levi pulls his coat closer to himself, and brings his scarf all the way up to cover his nose when he sneezes. He grimaces at his own actions, and makes a mental note to throw everything in the wash when he gets back.

Rarely one to get sick, when he does, he _does_.

The drug store is as tiny as the rest of the town, rustic and welcoming. The jingle of a bell announces his entry but he pays it no attention, scanning the area as he wipes the soles of his shoes on the mat. He sighs, and begins threading through the shelves for anything that can alleviate his symptoms.

He walks by a shelf that sells toys, another dedicated to female hygiene, another with camping supplies, until he finally comes across the medicine.

Levi scans through the labels, comparing dosages and symptom relief charts. Sneezing and runny nose, sore throat, coughing, and fever. Good, but not enough. He wants something that will knock him out cold for at least eight hours.

“May I recommend… this one?” says a woman with short blonde hair that reaches her shoulders in soft waves. “Fast acting and offers relief for twelve hours.” She gives him a kind smile when he takes the bottle he’s offered. “Or this, if you want something heavy duty.”

He turns away to sneeze again, before taking the second bottle with a sniff. “Can I take both?”

The woman chuckles and heads for the checkout counter. “You can, but that doesn’t mean you should.” She goes around a magazine rack to reach the cashier, from where she pulls out a receipt pad. “I go by Nana, in case you’re wondering.”

He hadn’t been, to be honest, but he figures that in such a small and remote town, it’s common to be on a first name basis after the first meeting. “Levi,” he offers, placing both bottles on the counter.

“Visiting, or…?”

“I moved in a couple of weeks ago.” He fishes for his wallet, and tries his hardest not to sneeze again.

“Huh,” she says. “Haven’t had a new face around these parts since Pixis rented out his old house. Would this be all?” At Levi’s nod, she rings him up. He hands her a twenty. “You wouldn’t happen to have moved in next to the Winchesters, would you?”

Levi doesn’t feel like talking, his throat feeling like each swallow is dragging down nails. “Ashbury,” is all he offers, pocketing his change.

Nana makes a sound similar to a muffled chuckle. “The Echo House, huh? Bet you got a hell of a deal on it.”

Interest caught, Levi casts the store a look, and once he’s certain that they’re alone, he turns his attention to her and cocks an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

Nana moves away from the counter, and begins organizing the magazine rack with a mockingly cryptic smile. “Each town has its urban legends. The house is supposed to be haunted.”

He almost snorts, involuntarily, but with a clogged nose, he ends up sounding like an asphyxiating bull.

Oh, the house is haunted all right, and it’s thanks to that ghost that he’s come down with the cold of ages. Despite his agreement to stay away, Eren stalks the house, albeit invisible. On more than one occasion, Levi has woken up to a frozen back, where said friendly ghost decided to spoon him for the night.

“I’ll be sure to hang garlic on the door,” he says, and Nana manages to look mildly confused by his seriousness.

“Salt will keep out the bad things,” she says after a short moment. She points towards the back of the store. “But none of that iodized stuff.”

Levi shakes his head and takes the paper bag. “I don’t believe in ghosts,” and what a liar he is. “Thank you for your help.”

“Don’t mention it, Levi. Hope you get well soon.”

He gives her a nod, and presses the scarf to his mouth again for another sneeze.

Feeling miserable, he heads out into the cold and hurries for his car, where he can blast the heater and defrost his fingers. The first snowfall of the season hasn’t even arrived yet, and he already hates the tidings of the upcoming winter. Not for the first time, he considers moving towards the south, where it’s always sunny and warm.

Sneezing and cussing, Levi pulls out of his parking space and begins his short drive home.

 _Home_ , he thinks with a frown. He still crashes at Erwin’s apartment during the weekdays, but returning during weekends is no longer a crushing burden. It’s almost a comfort. The counters may always be kept clean, but the bed covers are always slightly rumpled with the telltale signs of a ghostly inhabitant.

Such an endearing child.

There is nothing but static on the radio during the drive back, so he shuts it off and opts to thinking about things that have nothing to do with work or dead spouses. Weekends in the Lane, while relaxing, tend to get boring. Concentrating on books is impossible while inside the house, thanks to the curious aura that always gives off the feeling of someone watching. Levi needs something he can do outdoors and not freeze to death during the colder months.

Levi thinks about what Nana said, and the words nag at the back of his head. Eren has only been at the house, with him, for three weeks. Who, or what, haunted the place before him?

Rain begins to fall.

Wipers on, he turns left at the fork, and onto Ashbury Lane.

Each side of the unpaved road is barricaded by impenetrable foliage, oaks and pines towering well towards the sky. The occasional animal trudges out of the forest, leaving hoof or paw prints across the dirt path. It’s also dark. The lane is a tunnel of trees that opens up into a perfect circle of grass, where the old house stands. 

No one can argue that it is a stunningly beautiful place, but it just isn’t for him.

Levi maneuvers his car so it’s as close to the porch as possible, ready to risk a run for it under the now pouring rain. He hadn’t even bothered with an umbrella when he left the house, thinking that the sun would rise like it has done every day for the past three weeks.

He considers using the scarf to cover his head, but then thinks better of it when he remembers the amount of snot and germs he’s sneezed onto it.

Turning off the car, he waits it out.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the curtain in the kitchen window move.

Thunder keeps him from staring too long, and once it’s lightened up to a drizzle, he grabs his paper bag and steps out of the car. He moves quickly, yet careful enough to not slip. His clogged nose only serves to irritate him, forcing him to breathe through his mouth.

The front door opens while he shakes off the excess water from his jacket, and Eren stands just beyond it, already holding out his hands in an offer to take it. “Good morning,” he says, sheepishly. It’s the first time he’s shown himself since his promise to leave Levi alone.

Lucky for him, Levi feels too sick to put up a fight. Rather than giving him his jacket, he hands Eren his medicine in order to peel off the extra layers. “Morning,” he says, sounding frustratingly nasal. “As obedient as always.”

Before Eren can retort, the sound of a kettle interrupts them. “I made you tea, you ungrateful old man,” he says, walking into the kitchen with the paper bag in tow. “Go change into something dry.”

Ignoring the remark, Levi does so. In his bedroom, he chances into a pair of pajamas, not against lounging for the rest of the day. His body aches to the touch; therefore, the softest of fabric is required. He isn’t being a baby about it, Levi just understands the mechanics towards recovery. Even Erwin had ordered him to stay in bed all day.

He pads downstairs shortly after in socked feet, and finds a fresh cup of tea on the countertop. Eren is fussing over a sandwich. “You can drink your medicine after you’ve eaten,” he says, and Levi’s toes curl.

The list of why Eren was always so special to him is endless, but it’s his caring attitude that gets Levi all the time. Eren is far from perfect, being prone to terrible temper that is quickly ignited, but Carla had instilled a motherly instinct in him. Through the years, Levi watched Eren take care of his sister and best friend, and more recently, take care of him.

Eren is insufferably adorable, and the kid knows it. Levi has never had to voice it before because he just _knows_.

“Eventually, you’re going to have to buy some groceries,” Eren says, adding a slice of ham to the toasted pieces of bread. “Even if you’re only here on weekends, you can’t survive off bread, soda and ice cream for three days at a time.”

“Of course, mother.” Levi takes a sip of his tea. Perfect, as usual. “Whatever happened to retiring?”

A plate is set in front of him, and Eren gingerly places the sandwich on it. “Easier said than done,” he mumbles. “It got harder to stay away when you kept sneezing.”

“Your fault.”

Eren nods, managing to look honestly ashamed with that ridiculous pout. “I’m sorry.”

Levi waves him off as he starts eating his sandwich, and each swallow is sheer pain. He doesn’t wince, but he’s willing to bet that his discomfort is obvious. Eren doesn’t say anything, smart kid he is, as he moves around the kitchen, putting everything back in its place.

“Am I really that much of a bother?” he says, opening the freezer and pulling out a carton of ice cream. 

Some people kept trinkets of their loved ones – precious and valuable items. Not Levi. Eren hadn’t been the kind of person to become attached to material things, anyways. His high school jacket had been given to Armin, and his one old key he always carried on his person was given to Mikasa. 

As for Levi, he always keeps a carton of vanilla bean ice cream in his refrigerator because it was Eren’s favorite. Making up after a big fight? They would sit in their tiny kitchen with a bowl of ice cream and whipped cream, playing footsie until they fell onto the couch for a round of makeup sex. The death of a family member, old wounds, promotions, birthdays, lazy Sunday mornings – a bowl of vanilla bean ice cream.

“No,” Levi says, but even the ball of emotion is proving hard to swallow. “Of course not.”

Eren doesn’t look at him as he reaches for a bowl and serves himself a handful of scoops. “Any whipped cream?” He sounds relieved.

“Pantry.”

Brand new, Levi watches him break the seal and messily spray a mountain of it on top of his ice cream. “Good, because I don’t see anyone else taking care of you.”

By anyone else, he means Erwin, and Levi almost chuckles. “He has his own life to worry about, you know.” He stares at Eren when he sits across from him on the island counter. “He and Mike are finally serious.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eren says, taking a spoonful of whipped cream into his mouth and humming with delight. “He told me you’d always be his priority.”

Trust Eren to be confused about how he feels towards Erwin even in the afterlife.

“It’s a cold,” he says, taking a sip of his tea. “I’ll live.”

“Mike, huh?” Eren snorts, and Levi wonders if he’s imagined it, because the rag over his nose doesn’t even budge. “Have the three of you—”

“No,” Levi is quick to say. “Not with Mike.”

“But with Erwin.”

“Once.” He pushes away his food, done with the agony of swallowing. “A few weeks after your funeral.”

“Comfort sex?”

“More like submission sex. I tried to punch him, he manhandled me, things escalated.”

Eren gives him a wry smirk. “Typical. Why’d you try to punch him?”

“Hell if I can remember.” 

He does remember, however. The two of them had gotten into a yelling match when Levi lost himself to self-destructive behavior. He hadn’t been coping the way he needed to, and Erwin had tried talking him into shape. It didn’t work. Once a horse imprints on its master, it’s difficult to break it into another rider’s will.

Erwin tried. He still tries, but a crucial part of Levi’s machinery had become dislodged the moment he found Eren bleeding out on his bedroom floor. He broke beyond repair, and no best friend with benefits can ever even hope to attempt fixing him.

“Does he still poke around? Even if he’s with Mike?”

“In general, or with me?”

“With you.”

Levi shakes his head. “Mike’s pretty old fashioned. Doesn’t like it when his things are touched.” And he will respect that. Despite those crazy nights in which he would take both Eren and Erwin to bed with him, a sliver of jealousy would always manifest itself whenever Erwin would press a kiss to Eren’s shoulder. Fair is fair, he had reasoned with himself.

The jealousy eventually faded. Levi and Eren belonged to each other, and Erwin was an important yet unlabeled part of Levi’s life. The third wheel who granted greater stability, he had joked on more than one occasion, mostly while preparing the three of them breakfast, buck naked. A brave man, he who cooked bacon without a shirt.

Surprisingly, Eren frowns. “He shouldn’t leave you alone.”

“He’s not,” Levi says, taking the spoon from Eren’s hands and scooping up some ice cream. The flavor clashes horribly with that of the tea and sandwich, but it helps soothe his throat. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I can get you sick.”

Eren shrugs, and then smiles a bit. “I’ll get another spoon.”

Levi’s eyes water, and then he sneezes, quickly letting go of a curse. “I hate this shit.”

“Maybe if you drink your medicine,” Eren says, returning with a spoon and the paper bag Levi had brought in. He pulls out both bottles from it and shakes them. “They probably taste nasty.”

“I’ll chase it down with the ice cream.”

Eren serves him a tablespoon and holds it up for Levi to drink. He does, with both medicines, and he can’t keep his face from contorting at the terrible taste. He’s quick to scuff down various spoonfuls of ice cream, and while the initial pang vanilla taste bitter and gross, it eventually becomes sweet again.

“If this is the kind of care you want Erwin to give me, you can forget about it.”

Too lazy to get up and rinse the spoon, Eren uses it to eat his share of the ice cream, remnants of medicine and all. “That’s what I’m here for,” he says, tapping the now empty spoon against his chin.

“Fine.” Levi sniffs, irritated that his nose is still clogged. “I need someone to watch the house while I’m gone, anyways.”

“So… I can stay?”

Levi doesn’t look at him, understanding that he’s digging his own grave. He shouldn’t be doing this, clinging to an echo of a treasure he’s lost and already mourned. _The Echo House_ , Nana had called it, and he can only wonder if these wooden walls have anything to do with this apparition.

“Yes,” Levi says, because he is weak. He always has been. “You can stay.”

The wide grin that brims with happiness and unparalleled adoration is well worth it.


	5. Balm of Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, darlings. For starters, it is Monday, and the clock is now ticking towards finals. Wishing you all the best of luck, and reminding you to get some damn sleep. You'll need it. Drink plenty of water, too. ~
> 
> Anywho! A certain sweetheart that goes by [kiokushitaka](http://kiokushitaka.tumblr.com/) on tumblr made [this absolutely gorgeous (and eerie) sketch](http://kiokushitaka.tumblr.com/post/84445398215/ill-do-a-cleaner-one-eventually-but-heres-a) of my favorite little ghoulish ghost boy!
> 
> Thanks to every single gorgeous person who has dropped a review and a kudo. Like, seriously, you guys are the bomb-diggity. And those theories/speculations? Woo, boy. My lifeblood.
> 
> And now, please enjoy the chapter.

“It’s surprisingly warm for October,” Eren says, carefully overstepping a fallen branch. He’s wearing a knee-length coat as brown as his hair, and one of Levi’s scarves around his neck. Who would have thought that ghosts are affected by the temperature around them? “This place is super dense.”

Levi makes a sound to let him know he’s listening.

After spending the week at Erwin’s, Eren asks to go for a walk, and so they do. 

Levi hasn’t spent enough time in the Lane to explore things outside of the necessary, while Eren has. It gets boring, he says, spending his days alone. The guilt eats away at Levi, because it’s almost been a month, and Eren has never once complained. He’s happy to just be in Levi’s presence.

Hands inside his coat pockets, Levi threads his way through thick and thin trees, boulders and stacks of dried branches. He stays a few steps behind Eren, who walks as if he’s already laid out a path over the course of weeks. Maybe he has. “The creek should be nearby,” he says. “I think I can hear it.”

Unnerving, Eren’s ability to see and hear, but Levi doesn’t let it get to him. He already shares a mattress with said ghost; it can’t possibly get any stranger.

True enough, the rushing sound of water reaches Levi’s ears.

They hike a ways up for a good half hour, and Levi briefly thinks that they may be going the wrong way. He’s been hearing the sound water for a while, but there is still no creek in sight. The afternoon is slowly slipping into early evening, and the sun is taking its weak heat with it.

In front of him, he sees Eren scurry up a steep incline, looking briefly over his shoulder to make sure that Levi is keeping up. “Come on, Levi. You’re not _that_ old. To think you could at least keep up with me.”

Precious, considering that his ghostly ass probably weighs nothing. “I’m wearing office shoes,” is his weak comeback, and Eren laughs. “How much further?”

“Almost there.”

They crest a rocky hill, and if it weren’t for the fact that Levi had navigated through the thick brush himself, he could have sworn he is someplace else.

The creek goes on for miles, its water clear as it sloshes and falls over sleek rocks arranged into the form of steps, like tiny, white cascades. Grass is dying around its edges, beckoning the beginning of winter. The boulders along the bank are mossy, and smell richly of earth.

Levi passes by Eren, creeping closer to its ledge with curiosity born out of wonder. There’s beauty in its morbid simplicity, and he’s overwhelmed with the desire to wet his feet despite the cold.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Eren says, coming to stand by his side, careful to not slip on a patch of wet moss. “Far out of the way, but totally worth the hike.”

“It sounds closer.”

Eren nods his head. “Yeah.”

Standing in companionable silence, Levi takes his time to listen to the sound of untouched wilderness, as it proves calming to his nerves. He can fall asleep to this, if granted the chance. There’s no rhythm to running water, just the constant stream of nature in its freest state. The sound is like a balm to his frayed mind and jaded bones. It’s peace.

Movement catches Levi’s attention from the other side of the creek, and all he sees is but a shadow of a buck darting through the trees. He tries to keep sight of it, but the further towards the end of the creek it goes, the darker it gets. Dusk is finally taking hold, and they should start heading back.

Turning his head to the side, he notices that Eren isn’t there.

“Eren?”

Levi turns around and is met with nothing but dead trees and the sound of rushing water.

“You could at least tell me you’re gonna take a shit before running off,” he says. Irritation starts to bubble when he gets no answer. “Don’t ignore me, brat.”

He paces along the dry patch of grass, looking through the trees but never venturing too far from shore. It’s getting colder, but not because of Eren’s presence. Night is beginning to fall, and he needs to get back home before he’s caught outside with nothing but the flashlight app on his phone.

All he can do is trust that Eren knows his way around well enough to get back to the Lane.

A hint of movement out of the corner of his eye makes him turn around, but as expected, there’s nothing there. With the sun gone and the light fading, shadows will begin taking form, engulfing the forest in an inky black vacuum. Something tells him he doesn’t want to be here when that happens.

He sees it again, and this time, he can’t write it off to his imagination when it has happened twice in a row. This time, he doesn’t look. He doesn’t _want_ to look because, despite knowing he will see nothing there, he fears that he actually might. Levi doesn’t know what he’ll do if he does. Fight? Run? Call for help?

He stops and takes a deep breath.

There’s nothing to fear in the darkness. There are no such things as monsters, even if he does share a home with a ghost. Nothing will jump out and eat him and – maybe if he moves, he can get out before night falls completely.

The problem is that he can’t move his feet, for some reason or another.

Heartbeat hard against his throat, Levi keeps his hands inside his coat pockets to keep them warm. Is this a panic attack? He’s never had one of those before. He doesn’t know how to deal with them, if it is.

More movement, and this time he has to turn towards it. He turns to find the buck bending down for a drink of water, and it’s a huge animal. Levi has never seen a deer up close, but he never expected for them to be this big. 

He also didn’t know that they were black. Or that they had pure white eyes.

“Eren?” he finds himself calling, but the name is a mere whisper.

Throughout his life, Levi has done a great many things, and has survived a great deal more. Drug dealers, robbers, gangs, an abusive father. Levi is well acquainted with tragedy, violence, and death. He’s fought with them all, and emerged victorious. But there is one other thing that continues to visit him, something he hasn’t been able to suppress after thirty something years of emotional repression and perfect control.

Fear.

He’s scared, and it robs him of his voice.

It’s going to jump, he thinks, keeping his eyes on the buck still lapping away, its eyes trained on him. It’s going to charge him, and he has no weapon to defend himself with. All he will be able to do is run and hope not to fall, hope to get to his porch and not get trampled by this beast roughly the size of Erwin’s pickup.

It lifts its head and takes several steps back, shaking its head, waving its awesome antlers.

There is no moon to illuminate his path, but Levi doesn’t care.

He jumps over fallen trunks, slips on rocks. Branches cut at his cheeks as he runs blindly through the dark forest, lost, because he should have reached the rocky hill by now. He runs because he’s good at that, running, running from everything that can compromise him. He can’t hide, but he can run, and maybe if he runs hard enough, fast enough, for long enough, he’ll be home free. 

Maybe he’ll finally reach Eren, the real Eren, and not just his echo. Maybe he’ll reach Marie-Élise or Nicolas cooing over his crib in Calais. Hell, maybe he’ll find a younger Erwin waiting for him with a warm blanket, ready to sit him in front of his fireplace while his parents are out of town on business.

Levi loses his footing when he takes a false step, and he’s sent tumbling down what he assumes is the hill he had hiked up earlier. Regardless, he’s quick on his feet, adrenaline making him agile as he starts running again, away from the creek.

The cavity of his chest burns, as if his heart is increasing in density, spinning at a million miles an hour. It feels as if his heart is ready to collapse in under the pressure of its own gravity, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He continues to run through the darkness, tripping but not falling, away from the darkness and towards a home he can’t find.

An unseen force begs him to stay, to turn and fight. _With what? Your hands._ But he can’t fight with just his hands. There is no way for him to grab that thing and wrestle it to the ground, no way for him to wrap his hands around its thick neck and wring the life out of it. If he stops, it will reach him first.

It will crawl inside of him.

It will make his skin its home.

It will stretch and consume, burn away what it doesn’t need, and devour what it pleases.

The animal, the one whose thundering hoof beats blocks out the soothing sound of water, is gaining on him. Charging with its antlers poised to impale, ready to suspend him above its head, underneath the absent moonlight.

Levi doesn’t stop running. He calls out for Eren, screams for him, but no sound escapes his heaving mouth. The pressure in his chest and maddening but he doesn’t stop. He tries to scream louder, run faster, but all he sees are the same trees over and over again. He isn’t running around in circles, he’s running on the same spot. His feet have never moved. He’s still standing by the creek, and eyes of milky white still stare at him, inviting him to cross the creek, to wet his feet – to kill with his very hands.

•••

Levi wakes up with a start, trembling from head to toe. Slicked in sweat, his hands feel wet, and it disturbs him far more than any nightmare ever could.

Kicking off the bed sheets and running into the bathroom, he pointedly ignores the absence of a body – the warm emptiness of his bed.

•••

“You look like shit,” are the first words out of Hanji’s mouth when Levi steps foot outside his office.

“You would know,” he says, closing the door behind him and walking down the hallway towards the elevator, where the others are waiting for them.

Hanji laughs and playfully punches his shoulder. If he weren’t so exhausted, he would have punched her back, but as it is, he’s too consumed in the wish to curl up into a ball and sleep for a month in the comfort of Erwin’s couch. Showers and food be damned.

“Petra is meeting us at the restaurant,” Aurou announces, tapping away at his phone when Levi and Hanji finally join them.

“Great. The more, the merrier.” With his migraine, the Pope could come down to join them and he would, without a thought, tell him to shut the fuck up if he talks too loudly.

Like the first night he slept in the Lane, Levi had been in no condition to drive, but he did so. He got behind the wheel and made a two hour trip in just an hour and a half at the ass-crack of dawn.

He’s tired, sore, and his hands won’t stop feeling wet. Not the sweaty kind of wet, but the bloody. It doesn’t matter how much he scrubs at his hands, the blood is there. Invisible, but staining.

“Levi,” Erwin says, soft and kindly. He touches Levi’s elbow, startling him out of his reverie. The elevator doors are open and they’re waiting for him to come inside. He does so, but doesn’t respond and offers no apologies.

While in close proximity, everyone makes certain to either keep quiet or speak in hushed tones as to not aggravate him. 

Erwin keeps him in his line of sight throughout their entire walk down the city sidewalk, especially after nearly jumping out of his skin when a mounted cop galloped by.

The two of them stay several steps behind, letting the others head out of hearing range.

“You’re eventually going to have to tell me what happened,” Erwin says, pocketing his phone and casting Levi a chastising look. “You came knocking on my door at four o’clock in the morning, Levi.”

“I know what I did,” he says, regretting not having brought his sun glasses. The sun reflecting off the buildings is burning away his eyes.

Erwin stays quiet, but when Levi says nothing else, he nods. “You haven’t filed most of your reports, and the ones you did were full of mistakes.” They come to a stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. The rest of their group is already on the other side of the road. “If you’re having trouble concentrating, just email me and I’ll proofread them.”

“I can do my own job.”

“I’m not saying you can’t.” The light changes, and the crowd pushes them across. “But I’m sincerely worried about you.”

The concern in his voice is obvious, but it triggers no sense of sympathy in him. What Erwin needs to do is shut up and let him be. Whatever comfort he can offer can come in the form of food, a couch to sleep on, and probably a good fuck, but that last one is out of the question if Mike has any say in this.

“I’m a big boy,” he says, bringing up a hand to toy with one of the buttons of his pea coat. “Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t fix.”

“Stay with us tonight. Mike is cooking.”

Levi nods, having no need to play coy or pretend to think about it. 

He doesn’t want to go back to that place for quite a while, not while Eren isn’t there. The emptiness of the house had resounded eerily in him, fueling the paranoia the nightmare had incited. Just the memory of running through the forest makes his chest grow tight.

Levi jerks to a stop, nearly losing his balance when he finds he can’t take another step. There’s a flicker of panic in him before realizing that it’s just Erwin, grabbing hold of his arm and stopping him in place. Those who walk past them glare for having stopped so suddenly.

“What?” he says, confused by the look in Erwin’s face. The concern is still there, but there’s something else. Maybe he’s imagining it, but Levi can swear that’s anger he sees.

“Have you been seeing someone?” It isn’t an accusation; more of an honestly curious question. His tone is measured, however; careful.

The question still manages to throw him off. “Of course not,” he says, snappishly, and not very convincing. “Why would you even—?”

“Your neck is bruised.”

Crowded sidewalks have a tendency to be loud, per se, but today it feels like the universe has a personal vendetta against him. Extra bright sun, and extra loud pedestrians. He’s sure he understood wrongly. “My neck is bruised?”

Pulling his arm free from Erwin’s hold, Levi absently rubs his wrist, before placing his hands over his neck. True enough, it’s tender to the touch.

This is what it means to have one’s knees grow weak.

Erwin seems to catch on to the question on his face. “It looks like someone was choking you,” he says, low enough for only Levi to hear.

He doesn’t glare at the people who continuously bump into him in the lunchtime rush.

Of course Erwin would assume he is seeing someone. He of all people knows about Levi’s preferences in the bedroom, and his need for submission tends to tread on the rougher, more violent side of things. But these bruises are not the product of consensual foreplay.

If the hollowness of the house is terrifying, the look on Erwin’s face escapes description. There have only been a handful of times in which Levi has seen bloody murder written across those endless pools of blue, and each time is more unnerving than the last, especially when the rest of his face remains stony.

Levi’s first instinct is to say that he has no idea how it got there, but that will only set Erwin off. Not because he won’t believe him, but because something is wrong and Levi himself has no idea what it is. In all honesty, it would have been easier for him to agree about seeing someone.

“Don’t,” Levi says, turning on his heels and continuing the way towards the restaurant. There’s only thirty minutes left to his break.

“Levi.”

“I said, don’t,” he says without bothering to look at him. “Not here.”

Erwin catches up in no time, keeping in stride with him, but not pushing the subject any further.

Levi will have to come up with an excuse, a believable one, because the truth won’t do. Erwin wouldn’t ridicule him, but he also wouldn’t be above having him checked into a hospital. The thought of leaving Eren alone gives him nausea.

The current absence of words between them means nothing, because Erwin is discreetly watching his every move. Every bat of an eyelash and hitch of breath, he catalogues it for later study.

In the meantime, Levi searches for something to bring both their train of thoughts away from the mysterious bruises. “Do you know anything about hunting?” Levi asks, spilling the first thing that comes to mind. 

Clumsy, but efficient, if the way Erwin blinks at him is anything to go by.

“I’m afraid I was never one for the great outdoors.” Attempt at changing the subject caught, Erwin tries to be civil and goes with it. “What I can tell you about it, I may have learned through Animal Planet.”

Nothing a quick internet search can’t fix.

“Why the sudden interest?”

“I live in the middle of a forest,” he offers with a simple shrug. “Just embracing my new habitat.”

“You’re not an animal,” Erwin says, having the guts to sound mildly offended.

Levi interrupts him before he can go on a long, winding rant regarding the reasons why he planted Levi in the middle of nowhere. “All humans are. We’re mammals, just like deer and bears and most of the things that pace in the forest.” His words catch momentum. “We fancy ourselves the top of the food chain, we kill to eat, and how is that any different?”

Simple, clean, and true, Levi is unsettled by the gravity of his own words. 

Picturing himself as an animal holds an element of solemnity. The idea gives the illusion of answers to questions he’s too disturbed to linger on.

“Do you intend to eat your prey?” The way Erwin stresses the last word makes it sound like a sort of mockery, but his face states otherwise.

Levi takes a moment to consider his question, and only answers when the restaurant has come into view. “Perhaps.” 

He only wants a gun for protection, in case he ever finds himself lost in the forest with a wild buck on his tail. That doesn’t mean he will eat it once it’s dead. Self-defense, it would seem, is another factor in which killing proves acceptable in his mind’s eye.

Killing.

The word carries a heavy meaning that is inescapable. He’s never killed anyone before, although he has delivered wounds that brought people dangerously close to doing so, but that’s where his record ends. Levi has never aimed a gun and pulled a trigger.

If he does kill, it will be an animal intent on destroying him.

But, aren’t his parents animals who destroyed him?

Wasn’t his principal, back in intermediate school, an animal that destroyed him?

And Eren; isn’t he, too, another animal who dug his nails deep into Levi’s cold heart and squeezed the life out of it?

“Take the rest of the day off,” Erwin says, ripping Levi away from his gruesome thoughts once more. “After lunch, just head back to my place.” Erwin is frowning, slowly reaching out to touch his arm, as if scared that Levi will do something. “You look pale.”

Erwin hasn’t destroyed him, not yet. Erwin is the head poacher, forever mindful of the footprints he leaves behind as to not get caught or scare away potential quarry.

No, Levi decides. He’s more than that. He’s not the predator, he’s the savior. A god. Erwin Smith is a messiah.

“I’m not hungry,” he says, turning his head to look out towards the busy street. He feels cold, his migraine is worsening, and his hands feel wet again.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Levi tips his head enough to look at Erwin, just to see if the innuendo is there. It’s not. “I’ll call a cab.”

“Let me know when you get there,” Erwin says, reading Levi the only way he knows how to: like an open book.

•••

He doesn’t call a cab, choosing instead to walk ten blocks in the direction of Erwin’s conspicuous apartment building. The cold has done nothing to ease him; however, the sight of an outdoors shop does.

Levi prides himself in being able to make split-second decisions without a hint of hesitation. And so, without giving the shop a second glance, he decides on his next course of action.

Once at the apartment, he showers and slips into more casual clothing. He favors jeans and a turtle neck instead of the stiff suit he had been wearing and slips on the same pea coat he had on. All the while, he leaves coffee brewing. Coffee, because tea will only calm him, and the last thing he needs is to fall asleep behind the wheel.

He entertains the mug while adjusting the heater’s settings, as if making the place warmer will shake off the ice inside his bones.

Walking into the living room, he chooses to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and stare out at the skyline bathed in afternoon sunlight. Erwin’s apartment is as pretentious as its owner, but he doesn’t complain. The commodities are exquisite, from the pressured showerheads to the king sized bed in the master bedroom.

The apartment is covered in tones of gray and pale blue, a scheme Levi had chosen several years ago. Warm and comforting, there is a fireplace underneath the flat screen television; a replica of the one at the old Smith house, where Erwin and he had shared their first kiss at the age of seventeen.

This is also the same fireplace he, Eren and Erwin had fooled around in front of a few months before their wedding. Too much wine, good company, Erwin’s incessant flirting. He remembers how those big hands had cradled Eren’s head, their mouths pressed together in a heated frenzy. Levi remembers sitting back and getting hard at the sight of his fiancé being groped by his ex.

After that night, Erwin frequented their bed, or they would frequent his. Either way, they had a perfect arrangement that dealt with emotional stability and great sex.

Now Eren’s dead, Erwin is seeing Mike, and Levi can’t stop thinking about killing an animal he only ever dreamed of.

Funny how much one’s life can change so drastically in such little time.

Morose, Levi turns away from the window and stalks into the kitchen, where he rinses out the mug and scrubs at his hands for a good while. He has to fight the overwhelming urge to clean an already spotless space because he’s pressed on time. If he wants to go through with this, he’ll have to do so before Erwin and Mike get home.

Taking a deep breath, Levi pries himself away from the sink, and grabs his car keys.

•••

Localizing the shop is easy, what proves to be harder is finding a close enough parking space.

He parks in front of a fire hydrant, hopeful to be in and out before any cops can spot him. And even if they do, the ticket is a fee Levi could easily pay off. Eventually.

The inside of the shop is stuffy with its heater set too high and zero ventilation other than the front door, one that seems to rarely be open. Easy to expect from an outdoors shop set smack in the middle of a city well known for its booming nightlife. Here, not even the CEOs are interested in things as troublesome as fishing. Golf, maybe, but nothing that will get their khakis dirty.

The irony of the situation isn’t lost on him.

Generally rustic and cluttered, Levi grimaces while he walks deeper into the store. One of the walls holds an assortment of clothing ranging from light wear, to heavier coats intended for snowy mountain tops. 

An unprecedented amount of flannel floods even the fishing gear on the opposite wall.

The floor is decorated, haphazardly, with a series of displays of camping equipment. There is one display in specific whose meaning eludes him, and it’s that of a kayak filled with books on taxidermy, and oars made out of recycled items tied together with colored pipe cleaners.

Most disturbing of all are the mounted heads of deer, bears, and mountain cats along the wooden beams.

Levi may often be mischaracterized as cold, unfeeling and inhuman by most of the world around him, but he does have a soft spot for animals. _Animals smaller than me,_ he thinks. Cats, dogs, rabbits—he’ll nurture them if he has no choice.

He stops in front of the tower of books, questioning the clusterfuck of contradictory thoughts in his head. 

Just an hour ago, he had been talking about shooting defenseless animals. Hell, he’s standing inside this atrocity of a store for that same reason, and now he’s thinking about adopting kittens.

He really does need sleep. 

He digs his fingers into the corner of his eyes and sighs, utterly lost. He needs direction, to be told what path to take.

But path towards what? It feels as if a very important decision is hanging over his head, but he doesn’t know what it is.

“New to the life, huh?”

Levi turns towards the voice and is met with a balding, burly man not much taller than him. He looks strangely out of place, wearing a cheap suit and nametag that reads _Dimo._ With his hands in his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet, he has the stench of a businessman ready to make his sale one way or another.

Levi makes a noncommittal sound to let the man know that he is.

“What’s your sport of choice, then? A dapper young man such as you looks to belong in a much higher class. Fishing, perhaps? Or something grittier, like bear wrestling.”

Levi is five seconds away from walking out the door and never coming back.

“Hunting,” he says, and takes satisfaction at the way the man flinches. “Big game.”

Visibly unnerved by Levi’s demeanor, the man, Dimo, turns towards the checkout counter. “Ambitious for a beginner. Anything specific?”

Levi follows him, letting his sights roam over each oddity that pops out of every other rack. “I live in a forest and deer keep wondering into my yard. I was hoping to find something to keep them in check, and maybe pick up the hobby while I’m at it.”

“Seems to me like you’re the one intruding on their yard,” Dimo says, pulling out a stack of magazines from under the counter and laying them out for Levi to see. “But hey, it’s your money, who am I to argue with you?”

The glossy magazines just sit there, Levi looking down at them with a frown. He should probably leaf through them, but there is no force on this plane of existence or the next that can make him touch those things. There are stains of unknown origin on their corners.

“I just need a gun,” Levi says, gesturing towards the mounted weapons locked in a glass box behind the counter.

“Can you even use one?”

“Point and shoot,” he says, trying not to sound like he’s annoyed by the man’s idiocy.

Dimo laughs, a booming sound that’s as round as his belly. “Hitting a moving target ain’t that easy, kid. You can’t let it see you coming. Creep up on it, stalk it. Make it comfortable before you get the jump.” He opens the thickest of the magazines, landing on a spread dedicated to an array of rifles, some of them circled by pen.

“You can hunt, but you gotta learn how to respect the animals you shoot down,” he continues. “Even the ones who intrude on your territory.”

“Is that why people eat them?” The question is automatic, since he’s busy looking at the weapons on the catalogue before him.

“Yes, yes, exactly,” he says, drumming his fingers against the countertop. “But not everyone does. Others keep trophies, like those little beauties.”

Levi looks up to find Dimo holding out his hand towards the heads mounted high on the walls.

He would much rather cook his game and serve it at a dinner party.

He returns his attention to the magazine. “Which would you suggest?”

“If you’re a high roller like me, I’d go for the Shilen DGV. Pretty hefty price tag, but with a hand-lapped custom barrel and Timney trigger, well, you can’t go wrong.”

The rifle he sees looks like every other one in the catalogue, only sleeker. The price whose sum is equal to half a year’s worth of car payments isn’t too appealing. By all means, money isn’t exactly a problem, but Levi isn’t about to go wasting wads of cash on a product he can get for at least half that price.

Dimo catches on to his disinterest and flips the page. He points at the one gun circled in red. “And then there’s this damsel, which I have right over here.”

Taking a set of keys from beside the cash register, Dimo uses them to open the display on the wall. From inside he pulls out an average looking rifle. Smaller and more compact than the rest, it catches Levi’s interest.

“The Savage MK II,” Dimo says, and offers the rifle for Levi to take.

Looks are deceiving, Levi decides, because the gun is heavy despite its build. Its laminated hardwood stock is bulky and clumsy as he tries to figure out how to properly hold it, but the stainless-steel barrel adds a hint of grace. “What’s so special about it?”

“Ranked the highest during this year’s gun tests in the accuracy section. It’s designed for its owner to move. If you’re a good shot, well…” He lets the sentence drop and crosses his arms, giving Levi a professional smile that reeks of self-importance.

Levi looks at the red, circular sticker on the butt, and notices Dimo’s face fall. 

The price on the gun is cheaper than the price printed on the catalogue. He doesn’t even have to bring it up when he hands the gun over, and fishes for his wallet. “I’ll take it.”

As expected, Dimo doesn’t try anything questionable, and asks Levi to sign an ownership form. 

“Happy hunting,” he says, handing over a neatly repackaged rifle.

•••

In the years that Levi has known Erwin, he’s learned a series of truths about his person that would annihilate any set idea in the heads of people who are only casual acquaintances. For example, Erwin is a fan of video games. More often than not, he withdraws into bouts of hermitic episodes where he spends his time off cradling his first person shooters.

Erwin also once tried his hand at writing erotic literature, and failed. Levi had been quick to discourage him and his usage of atrocious euphemisms for the word penis.

Lastly, his fondness for eighties music is unmatched. Of course, that isn’t a rarity for someone in their mid-to-late thirties, but rather than keeping the upbeat tunes and synthesizers in his iPod, Erwin has a tendency to blast it through his surround sound system.

By the time Journey’s _Separate Ways_ comes on, Mike is pulling the lasagna out of the oven and setting it on the rack to cool. Levi is still slicing tomatoes and placing them over a bowl of lettuce, and Erwin is setting their table.

“Does he do this frequently?” Mike asks, rummaging through a drawer for a spatula. “The whole music thing, I mean.”

Rinsing the knife and hanging it up to dry, Levi goes in search of croutons. “Only when he’s brooding.” He finds a sealed bag of the stuff in the endless pit that is Erwin’s pantry. For someone who rarely cooks himself a warm meal, the guy sure goes out of his way to keep the place properly stocked. Levi is sure he can make a soufflé if he wanted to.

“Okay,” Mike says, managing to sound absent regardless of the hawk-like precision of his stare. “What did I miss?”

“He thinks my ass needs protecting.” Next, they need dressing; preferably Thousand Island.

Mike hums a chuckle as he leans against the island, arms crossed in front of his chest, oven mitts and all. It never seizes to amuse Levi how someone so big can have such a kind and mild nature. He’s kind of like a giraffe, dirty blonde hair included.

“That’s not exactly news,” he says. His mouth twists into a smile.

Salad done and dressing fetched, Levi walks over to the sink again, and finishes washing up whatever dishes they have dirtied in the process of cooking. Normally, Levi would ignore the prying, but this is Mike. The amount of people capable of getting Levi to open up is minimal, but he’s unquestionably on the confidant list.

“There’s nothing else to say,” Levi says, rinsing off a plate. “The big oaf probably thinks I’m gonna off myself.”

Mike’s lack of exaggerated reactions is one of the main reasons why he and Levi get along so well. He lifts a shoulder in a half shrug, and turns his head to look out towards the living room, where Erwin fiddles with the stereo. “If that’s what he thinks, then there has to be a reason for it.”

Erwin is prone to over thinking, true enough, but he’s capable of doing so rationally. Clear headed and driven, Erwin can overthrow a government with only a few hours’ worth of poking and prying in the right direction. But while emotionally compromised, his deduction skills tend to fail spectacularly.

The marks around Levi’s neck are in the shape of hands, not a rope, or a sheet, or anything that could have been used to hang himself. Levi is flattered by Erwin’s assumption of him being strong enough to attempt it, but it’s an obvious impossibility to apply this sort of strength to one’s own neck.

Another option would be that he had been attacked, but Erwin knows well enough that Levi would have kicked their sorry ass before calling the cops. He wouldn’t keep that a secret.

“I’m not going to kill myself,” Levi says. He’s much too vain to do so.

“Have you told him that?”

“Regularly over the past two years.”

“Worry wart.”

The words are so fond, Levi nearly smiles.

Erwin pops into the kitchen then, plucking the oven mitts right off Mike’s hands and onto his own.

Both Mike and Levi watch him, torn between confusion and amusement, as he grabs the lasagna and heads right back out into the dining area. “I’m hungry,” is all he says, to which Mike answers with a laugh, and Levi with a twitch of his lips.

“When aren’t you,” he says, grabbing the salad and following him out.


	6. Bad Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word to the wise: If you're home alone, don't picture yourself in Levi's situations. Auditory hallucinations may occur. 
> 
> Actual Sweetheart Kiokushitaka did a double whammy for this chapter. Not only did she beta (hallelujah a beta'd chapter) this chapter, she also created [another piece of stunning art](http://kiokushitaka.tumblr.com/post/84969914440/sketch-i-did-for-house-of-echoes-chapter-4-if-you). Go look at the art. Now imagine waking up at the dead of night and having that thing look down at you. _You're welcome._

Levi slows the car to a stop just before nearing the Lane, unsure about driving in between the ominous trees that lead to his house. Morning light dispels the usual dark, but it doesn’t do much where the heavy feeling in his stomach is concerned.

The feeling that something bad is going to happen is a tricky one to pinpoint.

The feeling hadn’t been there when Levi got mugged for the first time, sending him to the hospital for a good two weeks. Neither was it there when his father got into that fatal car crash. There was no heaviness on his shoulders, no lingering worry in the back of his mind on the day he drove up to his apartment, humming to a pop song on the radio, only to find Eren on the floor.

Now, on the other hand, Levi is acutely attuned to the way his fingertips are buzzing against the steering wheel. He can write it off as a remnant, the eeriness of the nightmare still lingering in his mind.

_You’re an idiot,_ he tells himself, because he’s an adult. Nightmares should not be affecting him on this level anymore.

Evenly, he lets his foot off the brake and allows the car to coast down the lane.

He nearly starts at the sight of someone at the clearing of his house, and the surprise tugs his mouth into a frown.

Eren is outside, pacing back and forth. He rubs his hands together as if the cold were getting to him.

Parking on the usual area, Levi turns off the ignition and finds that Eren isn’t paying any attention to him. He’s talking to himself, jittery, and he won’t stop pacing. Something is wrong, it seems, and something tells him that Eren isn’t going to tell him a damn thing.

Getting out of the car, it’s when he shuts the door behind him that Eren jumps, whipping around and facing him with his mouth slightly agape.

He’s missing another set of bandages, revealing a pair of perfectly normal ears amidst his brown hair.

Aside from that observation, Levi pays him no heed as he goes to open the trunk and take out the case that holds his new rifle.

“You came back,” Eren says. He approaches Levi like a wounded animal searching for protection. It unsettles him.

“I live here.” Case in one hand, he shuts the trunk with the other. “At least until Erwin finds someplace else.”

Eren flinches at his tone. “You weren’t here when I got back.”

“Your point?”

“It was three in the morning, Levi. What happened? Why did you leave?” There’s an edge of panic in his words. “Was it me?”

Levi scowls at him. “You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“So? You’ve been waking up without me for two years,” he says, his previous anxiety turning to anger. “If you’re gonna storm off every time I’m not here then—”

“I told you to leave but you bitched about wanting to stay,” Levi snaps. The anger he feels isn’t unnatural, but his inability to keep it contained is. “So fucking stay if you’re going to.”

Eren’s fists are clenched by his sides, and not for the first time, Levi wants to see rage in his eyes. He wants to see an all-consuming fire in endless pools of blue-green.

Levi feels anger born from fear of both abandonment and a faceless darkness.

“I didn’t leave by choice,” Eren says, stalking up behind him.

“That’s the second time you’ve used that excuse.”

Eren gasps like he’s been physically hit, and Levi doesn’t stay to watch his reaction as he barges inside the house and lets the screen door shut behind him.

He puts the case down on the table before walking into the kitchen to put water to boil.

He shouldn’t have said that.

Levi has said a million things worth being punched over, but this time he has crossed an unforgivable line. Blaming Eren for his own death is uncalled for, and the more he lingers on it, the more he feels like a big piece of shit.

His hands feel wet again, but he doesn’t look down as he braces them over the ledge of the stove top. The heat of the burner is spreading over the black surface, warming his fingers.

The front door slams open, slams shut, and all Levi can see out of the corner of his eye is a dark shadow darting up the stairs. For the first time, Eren looks more like an entity rather than his corporeal self and the chill it sends down Levi’s back stands his hairs on end.

He hears footsteps overhead, the wood complaining about the weight as it creaks and groans. The sound of something breaking reaches him, and Levi frowns.

“Shit,” he mutters, pushing away from the stove.

None of this is Eren’s fault. Everything he’s ever done has been to please Levi, to watch over and take care of him. All Eren has ever offered him is comfort, and the one time he isn’t there, Levi barks at him as if he were some dog who misbehaved.

There isn’t a thing that is not fucked up at this precise moment in time, and Levi can’t risk losing the only thing he has left. This ghost of normalcy, however impossible and wrong, is the only thing keeping him sane enough to get up in the morning.

With a resigned sigh, he opens the freezer in search of his peace offering, and while he pulls out the box of vanilla bean ice cream, the front door creaks open.

He turns his head, expecting the wind, but instead he’s met with a crestfallen Eren.

The cold that lingers on his skin becomes frigid, and it has nothing to do with him standing before an open freezer.

Eren crosses the small area and plops down on a stool. When he looks up, his mouth ready to form words, he stops to reconsider. “What is it?”

Levi remains still, adamant that if he were to look in the direction of the stairs, he will see something standing there, staring back. He forces his neck to work, though, turning quickly, but he only sees open space. These are shadows that are only there because the morning sunlight still hasn’t shifted enough to illuminate it.

He strains to listen for any kind of sound, but is only met by the bubbling water inside the kettle.

“There’s something in here,” he says, and his conviction gives no room for fear. Instinct tells him to go for a knife, but he can’t stab something he can’t touch, or even see.

Eren cants his head to the side. “As in, like an animal?”

Levi shakes his head. “Something like you.”

No, not like Eren. This feels different. The dread is different.

“That’s not…” Eren lets the sentence drop and turns his head to look out the window. “I’ve been here all this time and I haven’t bumped into anything.”

Levi keeps his eyes focused on the kettle when he turns off the fire. Eren is lying. He recognizes the quiver in his voice, the way he licks his lips and avoids looking at him. Lying, or nervous.

Subconsciously, Levi’s hand comes up to touch his neck.

“Something tried choking me the other night.”

Eren’s mouth opens, gaping like a fish that has been taken out of the water. “Was this…?” He clasps a hand over his mouth, and the whimper that escapes him tugs at Levi’s heartstrings. “Oh, my god.”

Apprehension that Eren might have been the one to do it grips him, but it fades when Eren curls in on himself, looking around like a cornered mouse. He’s scared, well and truly, and the sight awakens a feral anger inside of Levi.

Eren is still trying to speak, but he’s too overwhelmed with words to voice any of them.

“I’m fine,” Levi says, trying to sooth him. “I thought it had gotten to you.” And there it is, the true horror that has been eating away at him over the past week. The unspoken grief that had kept Erwin and Mike on their toes, carefully gauging Levi’s every action.

There’s another flicker in Eren’s demeanor, but this is hurt, rather than anger. Levi had left him behind.

Now isn’t the time for guilt. “Eren, I need you to be honest.”

“I’m not lying,” he says, indignant. “Even right now, I can’t feel anything other than you.”

“The lady at the drugstore mentioned the house being haunted,” he says, his attention not wavering from where he’s set it on the stairs. “Called it the ‘Echo House’.”

He hears Eren shift on the stool, his breathing hitched. It surprises him that he can now hear Eren breathe after weeks of unsettling quiet. “Didn’t you ask her why?”

“I didn’t believe her.”

Levi can feel Eren’s judgmental stare on the back of his head. “You still think I’m some freak hallucination caused by your conscience?”

“Now’s not the time.”

“To hell it isn’t,” Eren says, standing up from the stool with a huff.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking the closet for monsters,” he says.

Levi is put-off by both his tone and attitude, unused to this type of hostility from Eren. “Once we’re done checking, we’re talking about this,” he says, finally uprooting his feet from the spot in the kitchen. “You’re giving me answers, whichever ones you have.”

Eren doesn’t answer, but he shrugs to let him know that he’s been understood.

Without wasting time and making no effort to keep quiet, Eren stomps his way up the stairs with Levi on his heels. Not by choice, because Levi would much rather be ahead in case anything came for them. He isn’t sure he can protect someone that’s already dead, but he won’t risk the chance of finding out.

The top floor is unmoving and untouched. Not a single door is shut, and nothing is broken. Everything is as Levi left it five days ago.

But there is one thing that leaves them both unable to move.

The hallway that connects Levi’s room, the bathroom, the guest room, and home office extends farther than it should. Structurally speaking, it should be protruding out of the house’s back wall if looked from outside. No windows, no doors, and no light source. It’s dark and endless, and it shouldn’t be there.

Eren’s trembling fingers cling to the sleeve of Levi’s sweater, and were it any other time, he would have been amused at the prospect of a scared ghost. As it is, the two of them are struggling to make logic of the situation.

“We need to get out of the house,” Eren says in an urgent whisper. “I don’t like it.”

“You’re not doing this.”

“I told you that I’m not!” The outburst isn’t an angry one. He’s panicking. “Levi, please, let’s leave. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

A tough life and a tougher mother taught him to never venture down roads that may be dangerous if he doesn’t need what’s on the end. He knows better than to dabble in things that don’t concern him, but the anomaly is encroaching on his territory. It’s scaring them, it physically hurt him, and it’s only a matter of time before it tries its hand harming Eren.

“What do you think it is?” And just because Levi knows these things doesn’t mean he’s ever heeded his mother’s words. He’s got the scars to prove it.

“I really don’t care. Let’s just go.” 

Levi takes a step forward, and then another, and another, until he’s standing beneath the threshold, only a breadths width away from the dense nothing of the hallway. Eren is desperately trying to pull him away.

“Wait outside,” he tells him.

“What if something happens to you?”

“Call Erwin.”

“And tell him what?! ‘Hey, it’s me, Eren. Yeah, that one, the dead one. Just calling to let you know that Levi walked into another fucking dimension and I need you to get him out’?”

Levi looks over his shoulder, and sees that Eren is already near the top of the stairs, ready to dart out at a moment’s notice. “Whether he believes you or not, he’ll come as quick as he can.”

“Don’t do this, please.”

Levi ignores him.

He pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and searches for the flashlight application. The light is bright enough to illuminate up to a few feet in front, but there is still darkness beyond that.

He frowns at the thought that he may be sleeping, but he can’t recall a moment in which he’d lay his head down. The sequence of events is clear, from driving away from Erwin’s apartment building, two hours of back roads, a brief stint down the lane. The argument with Eren, the haunting shadow, the noise, the kettle – everything; everything is clear and tangible.

Crossing the invisible line on the floor doesn’t vaporize him as he’d been expecting. Nothing moves. Nothing happens.

So to speak, the space is just a hallway.

Levi walks across it, tentatively at first, and then confidently when nothing jumps out to eat him. He walks and walks but there is no end. The scenery doesn’t change, and he’s surrounded by the same, pale beige color that decorates the rest of the house.

He keeps on walking.

He doesn’t get tired and his feet never ache despite feeling like he’s walked for hours on end. At one point he debates whether or not it would be easier to walk in the direction he’d come from, but there’s only darkness on that end, too.

Levi walks until his phone runs out of battery, plunging him into darkness, but he feels no fear. There is, without a doubt, nothing here. The only thing that does worry him is that there may be no way out. He pushes on.

He hears nothing but his own footsteps and his labored breathing. He gets hungry and thirsty, but only enough to be annoying; nothing grave. He gets tired and sleepy, but he doesn’t mind not sleeping. It’s as if all of time has been condensed into this single, endless, hallway.

His thoughts walk along to the beat of his shoes, drawing back memories that were once too painful to fully embrace.

In a box underneath his bed is a scrapbook, one that Eren made for their first anniversary. It contains photos of absolutely everything, from family members, to friends, to random shots of cars and cats. There is a page dedicated to sticky notes, each square of colorful paper holding a wish, a thought, a poem, or a random word.

Mikasa wrote them a recipe, and Armin wrote them a poem. Petra drew them a house, Hanji wrote a brief history of how the cosmos was made, Aurou wrote a single sentence, Gunther wrote down his phone number, and Erd gave them a picture of himself. Carla and Grisha gave them a family portrait taken on the one Christmas Eren had braces, and Levi’s mother had given them a blue ribbon with green stripes.

On the last page, Erwin drew a large heart, despite being called cheesy for it. Levi and Eren had written their initials within it.

Levi doesn’t stop walking, because there has to be an end. Once again, he finds himself looking for his way home. Not a house, but his home; the place where he can store away the ugly impulses in his heart, burying them underneath its foundation, and forgetting them. He wants to find the place where he can no longer feel phantom blood staining his hands, or the crippling cold threatening to snap his brittle bones.

Freedom. What Levi wants is freedom.

He can’t help the gasp that escapes him when he slams into a solid wall. In the darkness, there’s nothing to see, so he places his hands over it and touches. He raps his knuckles only to learn that it’s hollow, inviting him to search more fervently. There has to be a way out, because there is no way for him to return the way he came. His legs won’t be able to make the journey.

His fingertips fumble for any sign of a wedge he can grab onto, any hole he can use as leverage, but finds nothing. The material of the wall itself is unfamiliar, not unlike weather-worn brick, but smoother and warm. It breathes as if it is alive, and it disturbs him, but he doesn’t stop his searching.

There is no draft, no sliver of light, but Levi presses on. He pushes against the wall, braces his shoulder to it and shoves, yells with unfiltered rage when it refuses to budge.

“All you animals only ever approach a situation in the same barbaric fashion,” says a voice, and each word is like a frozen slap across the cheek. It’s endless, a void, and Levi scrambles against the wall, desperate to get away.

“Now, now, jitterbug; hold on for a hot minute, will you? We’re not gonna eat you yet.”

Levi stops his frantic movements, but not of his own volition. He can hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

The voice isn’t coming from the darkness because the voice _is_ the darkness. The presence behind the voice isn’t something tangible, nor is it visible. The entity behind the voice is the putrid anticipation of looking into the dark and expecting to see something there, a pair of eyes, or the feeling of a cold hand brushing against the nape of one’s neck when one knows there should be nothing there. It is the shaking of a bed when one wakes from a forgotten dream, or the random jerk of a limb in the dead of night.

The entity isn’t physical; it’s just every single thing a person writes off as a trick of the mind. And it’s very, truly, real.

“Oh,” it says, and it’s impossible to gauge anything. “We see. Not much work to be done here, it would seem.”

Levi isn’t breathing. He can’t.

He nearly shouts –no voice comes out – when something slams into him, but it doesn’t manage to touch him. It cages him against the wall and the presence is there, burning cold.

When something does touch him, it’s hot, hairy, and wet. It snorts, and Levi’s mind immediately conjures the image of a black buck.

Inches away from his face, two pinpricks of light flicker into existence – eyes – and he can’t pinpoint the color of them. They _have_ no color.

“You reek of garbage,” it says, and the image of a snout spreads slime across his face. “Bad blood and charred bones. Good.”

The thing pulls away, and Levi finally regains control of his body, only to fall backwards onto the hood of his car.

He blinks and is met by moonlight hidden behind fat, gray clouds that promise the first snowfall of the season. Dizzy and disoriented, it takes Levi a few seconds to realize why his skin feels like it is burning: he’s outside, presumably in the dead of night, wearing nothing but jeans and a thin sweater.

Levi inhales sharply, the cold scratching his throat, before exhaling the coiled up tension in his joints. He’s trembling, but that is about the only thing not triggered by the temperature.

The clearing is desolate for the exception of his car, and a pickup he doesn’t immediately recognize.

The house is entirely lit, and there’s movement inside it.

He tells himself that he has to move, but his muscles aren’t responding. He needs to get away from the oppressive silence of the forest, but he doesn’t have the energy to even blink his eyes. Only his skin won’t cease its crawling, stretched out too thin over his bones, creating the sensation of nausea and discomfort.

_Garbage._

A shower would do wonders. He needs to scrub away the residue of the darkness that slithered across his body like a cruel caress. Getting rid of the smell is top priority. Next, the blood needs to be scrubbed from his hands.

“Levi!” The single word is a bellow so ferocious he nearly skitters off the car and away from the sound, but the face that accompanies the voice calms him almost instantly.

Shame be damned, Levi doesn’t fight the way his eyes burn at the sight of Erwin standing on the porch.

“Where the fuck have you been?” His words are clipped and tense, murderous, but Levi doesn’t fear them. He relishes them, the violence in them, the promise of safety. He may be able to protect Eren, but who like Erwin to protect him in turn? “I was this goddamned close to calling the police,” he says, grabbing a firm hold of Levi’s wrist and roughly yanking him off the car.

Levi’s knees buckle.

His feet feel wet inside his shoes and his body feels sore. He can’t move if he wanted to.

Erwin curses as he picks him up with little effort, holding him close for the sake of sharing body heat. He doesn’t speak as he hurries inside the house and shuts the door behind him.

Levi doesn’t want to be here. He’ll take the endless pit of the forest before spending another moment inside this forsaken house. The very thing breathes evil, a dormant malice ready to eat. They need to get out, all three of them.

Gently set on the couch, Levi sees Eren hovering in the corner of living room. The poise in his stance offers him a breath of relief, even if he’s only holding himself together by a string. He had called Erwin, and it all slowly begins to come back to him. Not that there is much to remember.

“How long—?”

“Shut up,” Erwin snaps, and Levi obeys. Lately, all he’s done is piss Erwin off, an astounding feat even for him.

Blond hair a disarrayed wreck and blue eyes too wide, Erwin runs a hand over his face as he tries to collect himself. He looks pale under the bright light of the living room.

Erwin turns his back to Levi and stands there for a moment, breathing deep and even. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what the hell is going on.” Hands on his hips, he shakes his head. “Six hours, Levi. I’ve been here six hours and you were nowhere to be found.”

Shutting his eyes, Levi snaps them open a second after. Terror that never gave up its hold tightens again, rendering him too fearful to even close his eyes. Head pounding, he stares up at Erwin with squinting eyes. “Why are you here?” he rasps out. The words break and falter, but they’re out there, clear enough for Erwin to hear them.

Erwin doesn’t answer immediately, and neither does he turn. He does sink into the couch, mindful to not pin Levi in the process. “Do you need a hospital?” The calm and collected demeanor is back, but Levi can almost trace the tension on his back and shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

The task to breathe normally is difficult, but Levi manages it. Staring at the ceiling, he flexes his fingers. The situation is surreal.

First things first. “I could use a bath. The hotter, the better.”

•••

The hot water shocks Levi out of his stupor, nearly peeling off his skin in the process. Trust Erwin to know what he needs, and give it to him with little to no complaint.

Levi sinks down until the water reaches his chin.

Behind Erwin, Eren is sitting on the toilet with his elbows resting on his knees. “I texted him,” he says. “I panicked and I texted him.” He shakes his head, which he later holds between his hands. “I think I made it worse.”

“Don’t,” Levi admonishes him. “This isn’t your fault.”

He tenses when he remembers that Erwin is in the room with them, and he obviously can’t see or hear Eren at all. Maybe his brain is creating him, and this whole situation is one bad acid trip transmuted from grief and insomnia.

Levi sighs, bringing up his legs and holding them tightly to his body.

“Whenever you’d like,” Erwin says, reaching for a bar of soap and dumping it in the water. “You can start telling me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is.”

“You texted me from an unknown number, and then kept me waiting for six hours.”

“I went for a walk and lost track of time.”

“Of course, and that’s the reason why you collapsed against your car with enough force for me to hear.” Angry heat is simmering in his tone. “That’s why there were marks on your neck.” He takes a deep breath as he kneels beside the tub, getting Levi eye to eye. “I don’t like pushing you, but I will if I have to.”

Levi focuses on his thawing toes, relishes the hot water flowing through his fingers. Erwin’s body blocks his visual of the door, creating a mock-cocoon where Levi doesn’t feel exposed to whatever is lurking around him. Funny how not even his mother had ever done such a thing.

Uncoiling his body, Levi keeps his knees up and rests his arms over them. The slope of the tub keeps him in a perpetual slump that appears casual. “Eren’s sitting right behind you.”

There’s really no use in lying.

Eren’s head snaps up, lips parting in surprising.

Erwin doesn’t react, steadily looking at Levi. There’s nothing in his eyes, or on his face; only the same frown from before remains.

He lifts his arms to rest them over the tub’s ledge, and walks his fingers over the surface of the water.

“Did he do this?”

Eren’s head snaps towards Erwin, and his mouth closes to form an angry frown. “You’re a prick for even suggesting that,” he says, his shoulders sagging. “Jerk.”

“There’s something else,” Levi says.

“Sounds troublesome.”

“Understatement.”

The sound of a closing door draws Erwin’s attention away, but Levi keeps his eyes trained on the water. Tension builds up again, as well as the urge to run until his legs give out.

“Eren?” Erwin asks, tentatively, but he isn’t calling Eren, he’s asking Levi if it’s him.

To his consternation, Eren is still sitting on the toilet, looking out the bathroom door. He can’t see his face, but there’s a sickening sense of dread radiating off his posture.

“He’s still on the toilet.”

Erwin looks away from the door to stare in Eren’s general direction. As it is, the view of the two of them looking at each other is overwhelming, especially when Erwin can’t see the dead kid with bandages over his eyes. The fact that Erwin is playing along is unsettling.

“Hello,” Erwin says, and even if Levi can’t see it, he knows the dumb giant is smiling.

Eren looks from him to Levi. “Is he serious right now?”

Levi snorts. “You can’t possibly believe me,” he tells Erwin, running a wet hand across his face.

“I’m no psychologist,” he says, turning around to look back at Levi. “But you’re the biggest skeptic I’ve ever met. Logic tells me that either you hit your head quite hard, or there really is someone there.”

“Which theory are you appealing to?”

“Both.” Fair enough. “How long has this been going on for?”

“Since I moved in. He showed up a while after you people left.” The water is beginning to cool down. “We talked, I was sure I lost my marbles, ran off to stay with you and Mike.”

“Then it’s safe to assume that you showing up at my doorstep is because of this.”

“Mostly.”

Erwin turns back to Eren, whose frown is now suspicious. “Is he a nice haunt?”

“More of a bitchy one.”

“Sounds like him,” Erwin says, and if it weren’t for the blindfold, Levi is willing to bet that Eren’s eye would have twitched at the remark.

“Husband of the year,” Eren says, sitting a little straighter. “Though, I’m not entirely surprised he’s taking this so well.” He scratches his chin, and the realization that there hasn’t been a hint of stubble throughout these past couple of week intrigues him. “Penny for his thoughts.”

“Penny for your thoughts,” Levi repeats, closing his eyes and resting his head against the rim of the tub. If anything, he can take solace in the fact that Erwin won’t let him drown if he falls asleep.

“We can get in contact with a church.” His tone is so serious, Levi almost laughs.

“We’re going to have to confess first,” Levi says with a sarcastic sneer. “If you want to tell a priest where your dick’s been, that’s your problem. The hell I’m telling anyone the shit I’ve done.”

_Bad blood,_ the voice whispers mockingly in his head.

Shouting _oh my god_ while either Erwin or Eren pounded his ass was as religious as Levi got. He never went to church as a kid, even if his mother always carried a rosary around her neck. He isn’t a believer of any kind; hell, he doesn’t even believe in _luck_ , let alone a being that sits on the clouds and flips humanity off whenever they suck a dick.

But both Eren and Erwin have very different views from his own. Eren isn’t exactly a churchgoing man, but he does pay his respects during Passover. Or, did, when he was alive. His parents beat it into him when he was a kid. As for Erwin, his beliefs aren’t quite clear, but Levi suspects there is some ounce of faith in him.

The fact that life has brought him to this point, where he’s questioning their religious beliefs, is a testament to how fucked up the situation is.

“Or,” Erwin says, pointedly ignoring Levi because they both know it doesn’t work that way. “Visit a doctor.”

The second option, the most logical one, sounds the most appealing. Levi isn’t giddy about the prospect that he may or may not be losing his mind, but at least it will be a logical problem that can have a solid solution.

“Waste of money,” Eren remarks with a shrug.

“He’s got enough to spare,” Levi says, and Erwin smiles, even if he hadn’t heard the initial statement. He knows Eren enough to guess what it is he said.

“The choice is yours,” he says, running a hand through Levi’s hair in order to comb it back.

Levi keeps his gaze on Eren, who is now fiddling with his fingers.

“Whenever you’re ready, of course,” Erwin says.

“The faster, the better.” Eren’s words are bitter. “Wouldn’t do to get attached again.” A simple remark, and yet it arouses a feeling of hopeless sadness.

Levi looks away from the two of them, angling his head upward to stare at the ceiling again. “So messy.” He isn’t exactly sure what the words are referring to, but he supposes it’s a general consensus. This all feels dirty and unnatural.

“Maybe, this way, it can give you a sense of closure,” Erwin says, getting up to his feet and brushing off his knees.

Everyone says that. They say it like Levi didn’t grieve the passing of his husband. He did, in the emptiness of his bedroom, away from prying eyes and inquisitive ears. The pain in his chest drowned him to the point in which he screamed himself hoarse, unable to hold his tears at bay. Levi cried like a child until the world balanced out again and he was able to stand on his two feet. He mourned until all he had left was a vacant hole in the middle of his chest.

“I’ll go get you some clothes,” he continues, and stops at the bathroom door. “The three of us can have a sleepover in the living room.”

The patronizing tone makes Levi want to get up and drown him.

“I still don’t get what you see in him,” Eren grumbles, glaring daggers at Erwin’s back until he’s out of sight.

“Same thing you did, brat.”

Cheeks turning a light pink, Eren huffs. “Whatever.”

Levi hums in muted amusement. The things Eren has done, and he still has the decency to blush like a delicate virgin. It’s perfectly precious.

The comments aren’t a product of jealousy, though. Resentment is the cause, because Erwin’s intention is to erase Eren’s ghost. That’s not to say that Eren doesn’t understand where Erwin is coming from, because he’s a smart kid despite being prone to jumping to conclusions and temper tantrums. As of now, the two of them are focused on what’s right for him. Their devotion never stops surprising him.

“Levi?”

Neither shout nor whisper, Levi can sense the urgency in Erwin’s loud hiss.

By the time he scrambles to his feet, Eren is already running out the bathroom door.

He grabs a towel but doesn’t use it in his haste, nearly slipping on the tile that eventually becomes wood. His heart is ready to jump out of his mouth, even if he can see Erwin standing a few feet from him.

Broad shoulders block out the newest addition to Levi’s house, and it takes him all of his willpower to not run in the opposite direction. The hallways is as innocuous as it had been when Levi stepped foot inside it, but this time, it at least has a visible end.

Eren steps in between Erwin and Levi, making sure that he doesn’t get any closer.

“What is…?” He stops, taking a tentative step forward. Levi doesn’t stop him. “How is this… possible?”

“It’s bigger on the inside,” Levi says, finally making use of the towel in hand, wrapping it tightly around his hips.

“We better not be dealing with aliens,” Eren grumbles, and if the situation were any different, Levi would have chuckled at the reference. Right now, there’s nothing funny about the intruding structure on the second floor of Levi’s home.

Erwin’s head turns to Levi, and then back to the hallway in a way that is almost comical. He takes a step back and licks his lips, trying and failing to pull himself together. One deep breath later and he’s nodding, straightening up and clearing his throat.

“All right,” he says. “Eren, you’ve got my undivided attention.”


	7. Black Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday, and good luck to everyone who is about to face finals week. May the Force be with you and the odds ever in your favor.
> 
> Now, hold on to your butts.

Sunlight finally covers the floorboards and couches in a warm shade of yellow after a long, restless night.

The sound of scribbling on paper fills the otherwise deathly silent living room. Tension is still palpable all around them, but at least Levi no longer feels like his back will snap in half because of it.

_I’ve been here for months and I had no idea there was something,_ the writing stops for a moment, hesitating, _Other._

Leaning forward on the couch, elbows on his knees and chin between his hands, Erwin nods his head. “How did you get here? Are you a ghost? A ghoul? A poltergeist?”

“Nerd,” Levi comments. “The both of you.”

Eren sticks his tongue out in a very mature fashion, but continues writing. _Not sure. I just am._

“But Levi can see you, and you can pick up a pencil just fine.”

“And he can touch me.”

“How does _that_ feel?” Erwin asks, giving Levi a sidelong glance.

“Electric,” he answers truthfully. “In the unsexiest way possible, to be clear.”

“Sorry about that,” Eren says, shyly scratching the back of his neck. “It’s a good thing I haven’t tried going down on you.”

“Don’t. For all our sakes.” Even if the words instantly slip out of him, Levi wonders how that would feel like. “I don’t want to catch ghost cooties.” Probably like fucking an ice pack.

Erwin lifts an eyebrow, and Levi shakes his head, guaranteeing him that he doesn’t want to hear about the brief exchange.

“Either way, this reminds me of a show I used to watch when I was a kid,” Erwin says. He takes the paper to better appreciate the words written on it, but it’s ripped away from him by an unseen force. On his defense, he doesn’t even flinch when it happens.

_Ghostwriter._

“The very one,” he says with a smile.

Levi rolls his eyes. “Again, nerds.”

“I think the proper term would be geek,” Eren says, beaming at him.

“Geeks,” Erwin echoes.

Getting up from the couch and stretching, Levi groans and sighs. “Would you like some alone time? I’m starting to feel like a third wheel.” There’s no venom in his words, just amusement. “You know, aside from feeling like something in my house wants to kill me.”

Levi wanders into the kitchen before either of them can reply.

He debates whether or not breakfast would be a good idea, and decides on making coffee and bagels all around.

The one sided conversation happening in the living room is oddly calming, with Erwin’s smooth voice accompanying Eren’s occasional chuckle. Memories of normalcy are uncovered from the depths of his mind; gentle Wednesday nights with Eren’s head on Levi’s lap after a long day at college, and Erwin lounging on the couch watching old movies.

It never occurred to him how much Erwin might miss him.

Putting a pot to brew, Levi starts on warming up the milk. After he’s put the first two rounds of bagels in the toaster, he leans against the fridge to wait. His ability to multitask always did get him places.

Reluctantly, Levi settles into thinking about the nightmare and the apparently day-long walk he took yesterday. The only similar aspect between the two occurrences is the presence of a buck, or something deer-like, anyways. The second occasion had been darker, grittier, inducing a sense of claustrophobia that contrasts the agoraphobia he experienced during the nightmare in the forest.

None of it makes sense, from Eren sitting in his living room, to the voice that had disgustingly touched him in the darkest places of his mind.

The bagels pop out, and he moves to shut off the milk before it begins to boil. He pops in a third bagel, and then rummages the refrigerator for a bowl of cream cheese he’s certain he has. He finds it near the back, and brings the jelly with him, remembering how Eren likes the contrast of flavors.

He prepares them, and once he’s done, he shuts off the percolator and serves the coffee. Two tablespoons of sugar for Erwin, three for Eren, and four for him. He likes his coffee like his likes his boys, strong and sweet.

“No eating in the living room,” he calls out, placing the bagels on plates and setting them on the island countertop. “Get your asses over here.”

“But it’s perfectly okay for you to eat on the couch,” Eren says, taking the stool furthest away from the stairs.

“Because I’m not a fucking slob,” Levi says, aiming a jelly-slathered butter knife in his direction. “Don’t be a smartass.”

Erwin is standing at the foot of the stairs, staring at Levi with a lopsided grin. “Mind telling me where Eren is _not_ sitting?”

Levi thinks about it before shrugging. “Yes.”

“Why would he even marry you?”

“I know, right?” Eren says, holding out his hands in an exasperated gesture.

Lifting the knife again, Levi makes sure to give Eren the most threatening look possible, but the kid just smiles. “You can go haunt Erwin’s ass if it makes you happy.” He turns around to fetch their coffees. “Shitbags.”

When Erwin refuses to move, and Levi’s irritation begins to take form at the thought of his food going cold, he says, “When have you ever taken jelly with your bagels?”

Erwin shrugs. “You may have switched them to get back at me.”

“For what?” Never mind that there is an extensive list of things Erwin has done that merits revenge, but Levi has more class than letting the guy crush his already dead husband. “Just sit the fuck down and eat your goddamned food.”

Approaching the stools, Erwin places a hand on the one in front of the cream cheese only bagel. “If you’re here, you might want to take the other one.”

Levi deadpans, but Eren is grinning.

When Erwin sits down, Levi is close to cracking a joke, but he’s interrupted by a thoughtful hum. “Believe it or not, I think I can actually, somewhat, see you.”

This catches their attention, and Levi opts to stand by the island to eat his breakfast. “Enlighten us.”

Erwin looks to his side, his eyebrows narrowed in concentration. “There are telltale signs I can catch if I look hard enough,” he says. “Like how I’m certain you put a bagel and a cup of coffee on the countertop, and yet the cup’s missing.”

Eren blinks at him, and then down at the mug he’s holding. “I always assumed someone would be able to see when I move something. I mean, didn’t he see the pencil moving?”

“That’s interesting,” Levi mutters, fingers wrapped around his own mug, but not drinking from it yet. “No sort of movement?”

“None. Strange, though, how I know it’s there and I should be following the movements, but it’s as if I get distracted long enough for him to act without me noticing.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Eren says. “Imagine all the concerts I can sneak into.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Levi warns. “Is there anything else?”

Erwin is still for a moment, before nodding his head. His countenance is serious again, a sharp contrast to the mirth from a few minutes ago. “You know how your sight sometimes blurs out of the blue? Absolutely no reason, there’s this foggy patch you try to rub off your eye?” At Levi’s nod, Erwin sighs. “It’s just an odd distortion where he’s standing.”

“But it’s something, right?” Eren says, apparently forgetting that Erwin can’t hear him. “Just goes to show that this isn’t all in your head.”

After he finally takes a sip of his coffee, Levi grabs one half of his bagel.

The foreboding feeling only increases with the conversation, a grim reminder that the situation is far from being a joke, even if they take it in stride.

“Where are you going?” Erwin says, and both Levi and Eren gaze at him.

He’s looking at the stairway with a half smile and Levi can feel his blood run cold.

Because Eren hasn’t moved from his spot at the stool.

“Who the hell is he talking to?”

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Levi mimics, putting down his food when all forms of an appetite have disappeared. “Erwin?”

Erwin blinks up at him, confused. “There’s…” He stops talking, and slowly gets up from his seat. “By the stairs.”

Everyone moves too fast, Eren with enough force to knock down his stool, making Erwin jump. Levi is ready to run out the door, but Erwin is grabbing him by the arm before he can get far.

He’s also laughing, hysterically.

Levi wrenches his arm free of his hold, his heart hammering. When the realization hits him, he wishes he can castrate him. 

“You son of a bitch!” Levi does, however, shove him. Not that it achieves much due to Erwin’s massive size. “Does this look like a fucking game to you?!”

Hand to his chest, Erwin nearly doubles over with laughter.

Back pressed to the wall, Eren is shaking his head. “That wasn’t cool,” he says, voice so low it’s difficult to catch.

“I’m sorry, all right?” he says, straightening up but unable to hold back his giggles. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“Yeah, and almost gave me a goddamn heart attack in the process, asshole.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, really.” Erwin runs his hands over his face, and no longer tries to hide his amusement. “I didn’t think that through.”

Never has a single sentence sounded so wrong to Levi’s ears.

While Erwin is, without a doubt, a complete doofus, there is a line he makes certain never to tread upon. His life choices aren’t exactly saintly, but he has – and will continue to – think before he speaks. In contrast to Levi’s coldness, Erwin is warmth corked inside a good time, but wise beyond his years.

Long story short, Erwin is a carton of apple juice served in an elegant wine glass, and he’s above petty pranks during a dire situation.

A series of red flags are raised in Levi’s head. 

“Erwin?”

As if on cue, he plops down on the stool again with as much grace as any man his size can, and looks up at Levi with wet eyes. “My head hurts,” is all he manages to say before Levi gets moving.

Going around the island, he grabs Erwin’s sleeve and drags him to his feet. “Outside,” Levi barks, half hauling and half pushing him out the front door. The air around him feels frigid, and Levi is only just starting to believe that whatever this thing is knows no boundaries.

He only looks back to make sure that Eren is behind him.

Erwin stumbles down the steps. He holds out a hand in Levi’s direction in a non-verbal gesture to keep his distance, and so he does.

Levi watches him stagger across the clearing until he reaches the side of his car, away from his line of sight. But the distance isn’t enough to not let him hear the sound of gagging and retching.

“What just happened?” Eren asks, sounding tired.

Shaken to his core, Levi doesn’t protest when Eren takes his hand and threads their fingers together in an attempt to offer comfort.

The two of them wait in relative silence until Erwin pulls himself together. When he does, he opens the door to his pickup, perhaps in search for napkins.

He hobbles back, his pale face looking green around the edges.

Eren’s hand falls away when Levi moves towards Erwin, guiding him to sit on the steps.

“It’s not safe for you to stay here,” Erwin says, as if they hadn’t already reached that conclusion.

“There isn’t much I can do until the realtor comes through.” Levi uses one of the napkins to wipe the sweat off Erwin’s forehead. “Don’t vomit on me.”

“I won’t,” he says with a wan smile.

Eren sits next to him, pressed side to side.

“We should have taken out jackets on the way out,” Erwin comments off hand with a visible shiver.

It is cold, but not to the extent of requiring more layers; not today. “It’s Eren,” Levi says, watching as the kid rests his head on Erwin’s shoulder. “Guess he misses cuddling you.”

Eren sticks his tongue out, but otherwise doesn’t deny the accusation.

“Nice to see the afterlife is treating you well enough,” Erwin says, looking down at his shoulder. His sickly smile turns softer. “Levi isn’t the only one that’s missed you.”

Arms now wrapped around Erwin’s arm, Eren curls onto his side. It’s his own way with dealing with anxiety, Levi recognizes, having always done the same during college finals or whenever his boss would get on his case for one reason or another. Neither of them ever minded holding him for the sake of easing his mind.

Trusting the two of them to be safe outside the house, Levi turns towards his car in search of alcohol swabs he keeps stashed in his travel-sized first aid kit. He also grabs the water bottle he had forgotten to take with him yesterday. It’s room temperature by now, but it will do.

No one is talking when he gets back, both their eyes closed and breathing even.

Levi tears the packet open, patting the swab underneath Erwin’s nose, careful not to suffocate him with the smell of alcohol. A bleary blue eye opens on contact.

“For the nausea,” Levi explains. Even while knowing that Eren isn’t asleep, he involuntarily finds himself whispering the words. “Feeling any better?”

Erwin hums and, true enough, a semblance of color bleeds back into his cheeks.

“I’ll get in contact with the realtor first thing Monday morning,” Erwin whispers. “If she doesn’t come through, I’ll search for something myself. In the meantime, you ought to stay with Mike and me.”

Eren makes a sound of protest, but doesn’t otherwise move from his spot.

“Have you considered running this through with Mike first?”

“He won’t mind. It’s not like you haven’t been doing so all this time,” Erwin says. He’s shivering by this point, but he doesn’t complain.

Knowing Mike, he won’t mind at all, but Levi minds.

Four years ago, Levi and Eren became exclusive. Not because Eren was bothered by Erwin’s presence, but Levi felt like marriage was a whole different beast that needed taking care of. For all the open-mindedness, Levi felt like the two of them needed their intimacy, even while knowing full-well that Erwin wasn’t coming between them in any way, shape, or form. Just habits of an old man, he had thought.

One serious conversation regarding the matter, and they went their separate ways. The memory of Erwin’s forced smile is still fresh, but he respected the decision. He moved on, settled down himself.

At this moment in time, Levi can’t bring himself to step into the same familiarity he had denied him. Mike is more like Levi than a lot of people may think. The man values his privacy. He’s good enough friends with Levi to compromise on his own comforts, and that doesn’t ring fair to him.

“I can’t abandon this house,” Levi says, fearing that fact. “I can’t leave Eren behind.”

Eren lifts his head, adamantly shaking it. “Don’t worry about me,” he says.

“Don’t,” Levi warns, looking off towards the edge of the dying forest. His breath mists as he breathes evenly through his mouth. “Just don’t.”

“I swear to God, Levi,” he says, and his voice is eerily calm. “If you stay in this house because of me, you can kiss my ass goodbye because I _will_ leave. I’m not gonna sit by and let something hurt you.”

“If it does, it won’t be your fault.”

“And how do you know that, huh?! For all we know, that thing is probably feeding off me or—or something. Mom used to say that evil calls to evil—”

“You are not evil,” Levi says. He doesn’t shout; he doesn’t have to. There’s enough conviction in those four words to silence the sound of nature all around them. “May that be the last time you even suggest something like that.”

Eren’s lips tighten into a thin line, but he says no more, leaning right back into Erwin’s personal space.

“I believe a compromise is in order,” Erwin says. The troubled look that has been ghosting across his brow whenever Levi and Eren talk is nearly nonexistent by this point. “Willing to hear me out?”

Levi makes no form of acknowledgment, but Erwin continues.

“In order to not disturb whatever’s going on here, be it with Eren or whatever it is that’s in there, we can stick to our current arrangement. You can stay with us during the workweek, and on weekends, you can stay here.”

“With you.”

“With me.”

“No,” Levi says. He crosses his arms when the morning chill becomes too much to ignore, pinning his hands under his arms to keep them warm.

“It’s not that bad of an idea,” Eren adds, thoughtfully tilting his head.

“That thing was dormant until Erwin stepped inside. How can this possibly be a good idea?”

“You need someone who can get in contact with the authorities if something, God forbid, were to happen,” Erwin says.

Levi remembers a similar conversation taking place not twenty four hours ago. The answer as to how Eren managed to text Erwin when Levi had his phone on him still eludes him.

“Completely failsafe,” Levi says, making sure that his sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed.

Erwin sits up and holds his arms outstretched in an exasperated gesture. Eren moves with him, as if he has a corporeal form. “Have you got a better plan? So far, this is the only one that will benefit all three of us.”

“Benefit you?”

“Yes, Levi, it benefits me too.” Erwin sighs. “I’ll sleep better at night knowing you’re within arm’s reach.”

“Two against one,” Eren says with a little triumphant smile. “We win.”

“You are aware I’ll be gone five out of seven days,” Levi says. He narrows his eyes because, while Eren’s intentions are good, the boy is far too dense in any given situation.

“Never said I was ecstatic about the idea, but I’ll definitely feel better knowing you’ll be well out of harm’s way more often than not.”

Levi glares at them before turning away. This isn’t the first time they’ve chosen to side together, making Levi the enemy of the state. Back in the day, they would resort to alternate methods of persuasion, the kind that required a locked bedroom door.

Right now, all they have are puppy-like blue eyes, and a pair of small, pouty lips to help their case. It will take more than that to convince him on the matter, but Levi can see their point. He may be stubborn, but he isn’t blind. If left up to him, he would never walk past that front door again.

“I’ll talk with Mike,” Levi says at last, careful to not make it sound like an agreement. “We’ll decide on something depending on his reaction.”

“What are you gonna tell him?” Eren asks. “You can’t just tell him the truth.”

“Erwin will figure something out,” he says. “But let’s not insinuate that I may or may not have lost my mind.”

Erwin chuckles. “Trust me; there isn’t a person we know who doesn’t already think so.”

•••

By the time Erwin’s pickup disappears down the lane, Levi is already inside the house, ignoring Eren’s protests.

“Why couldn’t you go with him?” he says, agitating his hands. “He’s only gonna be gone for a few hours.”

Levi approaches the box on the table and is pleased to find it untouched. Erwin must have been too preoccupied with the ordeal to poke at it. “Because,” he says, opening its latches and carefully swinging open the lid. “There’s something I have to do.”

The rifle rests on its foam bed, unblemished and sleek.

“When did you get that?” Eren asks, his voice a hushed murmur.

Levi doesn’t meet his eyes. “Just a precaution.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” The apprehension is clear, tightening his words into clipped sounds. He takes several steps away, but Eren has never been discreet. He wears his emotions on his sleeves.

Opting not to answer, Levi steps outside the house.

He walks to his car in search for the rest of his gear. Popping the trunk, he fetches a shopping bag.

By the time he returns, Eren is sitting in the living room, his back towards him. The house feels colder than before, but it isn’t due to a malevolent force. Eren’s cold shoulder is far more severe than anything else Levi can encounter.

He doesn’t press or argue with him, and instead heads up towards the bathroom to change.

Door locked behind him, Levi rummages through the goods purchased at the outdoor’s store.

The camouflage combo cost him a good penny and he’s glad to see that it fits just right. The hunting boots weren’t as expensive, claiming to be low maintenance yet good enough to get the job done. They fit loosely, but nothing that can’t be adjusted by firmly tied laces. Next, he puts on the orange hunting jacket.

Levi feels ridiculous, swallowed by the unfamiliar bulk.

He lingers by the bathroom door when he’s done changing, a hand on the doorknob. He’s yet to verify if the hallway is still there, and he doesn’t want to. The idea of the structure is a blasphemy in itself, and Levi would rather not face it yet.

Fully understanding that he will achieve nothing by standing here, he opens the door and makes an effort of keeping his back in the direction of the hallway. Not the best of ideas, but if hears anything, he won’t hesitate in turning around.

He makes it downstairs without incident.

“You look ridiculous,” Eren says. He’s still facing the wall.

“Your face is ridiculous,” is Levi’s weak remark. Tired and stressed, the last thing he needs is another fight.

He candidly lifts the rifle from its case and handles it, testing its weight and how well it fits in his hands. Somehow, it feels different than it did in the store.

“When have you ever shot a gun before?” ”Eren asks.

Levi puts the sling over his head, letting the rifle rest across his back. “My father used to hunt foxes when I was a kid,” he says, and that’s about as much experience as he has. In reality, all he ever saw was the man lift a gun and shoot the animal, and that was that.

He isn’t trying to be difficult, but paranoia is slowly licking away at his heels. Levi knows that Eren is aware that he will snap at him whenever he gets annoyed, so he doesn’t worry too much about Eren’s defensive attitude at the given moment.

“Have _you_ shot a gun before?” Eren asks again, this time giving no room for omission.

Levi focuses on the sound of his footsteps, on how heavy the boots sound against the wooden floor. “No, not a real one.” He has, though, used knives on more than one occasion – strictly for self defense. Being short and lanky as a teenager only ever got him into trouble.

“So you’re gonna go out there and shoot an animal because…? What? What are you hoping to prove?”

A really good question, Levi concedes, one he’s avoided asking himself since deciding to go through with this.

“Practice,” he says. It’s the only logical excuse he can come up with. Practice, in case someone tries to break in, or hurt him. The deeper recesses of his mind whisper that bullets won’t ever harm something that can’t bleed, but humans have a tendency to lie to themselves in order to sleep at night.

Eren scoffs from his spot on the couch. “For what, the Olympics?”

Levi narrows his eyes, non-existent patience wearing thin.

Choosing to ignore him, Levi clips on the fanny pack equipped with a flashlight, a knife, bug repellent, a first aid kit, and a compass. From around his neck hangs a pair of binoculars, and, walking outside, he grabs his hot seat.

The entire getup reeks of overkill, but who is he to know. For being so hell-bent to hunt, he tends to forget searching the internet for any sort of tips. All he has are Dimo’s pointers.

Levi wastes no time on hesitating and crosses the west tree line, his hand firmly on the stock. If he thinks too hard about it, he’ll only turn on his heels and head right out, but he can’t afford that cowardice. He has no idea who he is trying to convince, but he needs to convince them that he isn’t afraid to take control. Levi won’t let fear paralyze him. Like a cornered animal, he will strike back.

For a slight moment, Levi is disoriented by how unfamiliar his surroundings are, until he remembers that the only time he stepped foot past the tree line was in his nightmare. Of course it won’t be the same, and it serves to soothe his nerves.

He breathes deep and even, loudly making his way through a maze of skinny trees.

First thing to do: locate the buck.

Accepting that he will have to wander far enough that his house will be out of sight will be a problem. Levi needs to find heavily wooded areas, dense and inhospitable to humans. If that fails, the end of a creek is his next best choice, but he would rather take his chances elsewhere.

Pulling out his phone, he turns on the GPS.

“Really gonna go through with this?” Eren says, and Levi is surprised by his lack of reaction.

“If you’re gonna be on my ass, then head back.”

“You’re not supposed to go hunting by yourself.”

Levi’s grip on the gun tightens. The last time he walked these woods, Eren abandoned him to whatever force is trying to make an hors d'oeuvre out of him.

They tread through an unmarked path in silence, taking advantage of the morning sunlight. Not a breeze rustles of the leaves, nor does a bird chirp in the distance. The evidence of winter is already here, now all that’s missing is the snow.

“Does Erwin know about this?”

Eren is walking ahead of him, hands swaying freely by his side. For the first time, he looks oddly translucent in this environment; like those shadows one think are there but really aren’t. Like a candle flame, Levi fears a gust of wind will blow him out.

“No, and let’s keep it that way.”

When the sound of running water reaches his ears, he turns in the opposite direction.

They trek for an hour without spotting any movement other than that of squirrels and other rodents scavenging through the underbrush. The forest is silent, but it’s not the eerie kind of silence Levi recalls from his nightmare. If the situation weren’t so grave, he would have even considered camping out here.

Eren’s hand to his elbow stops him, and with a finger to his lips, he angles his head towards the left. “I think I hear something.”

Levi stops moving and listens, but hears nothing. He shakes his head, and Eren pulls him in the direction of the sound.

Crossing thick groves and what looks to be a nest, the two of them walk around for fifteen minutes before giving up on the trail.

“I’m pretty sure I heard something,” Eren says with a frown.

Levi sighs and starts walking in the opposite direction. “It was probably the wind.”

“I don’t think the wind grunts.”

To Levi’s disappointment, the forest doesn’t get any denser. The trees are thin and far apart, allowing a clear view of at least one hundred feet at a time. He sees no tracks on the ground, and he’s starting to wonder if there is any sort of game at all.

“Shouldn’t you sit down and wait for something to pop up?”

“In order to do that,” Levi says, mindful of his volume. “First I need to find someplace where deer are comfortable lingering at.”

Eren hums a thoughtful note. “How about the creek?”

“No.”

“‘No’ as in they won’t be there, or…?”

“We’ll leave that for last,” Levi says, careful to not seem defensive. He doesn’t know why, but he feels that keeping this from Eren is the best thing to do. Be out of protection or something else, Levi isn’t willing to pinpoint.

“Fine,” Eren says, petulant. “Go ahead and make your life difficult like you always do.”

“If you’re going to throw a tantrum, go home,” he says, shutting up when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye.

Moving as quickly and as quietly as possible, Levi presses his back against a tree.

“I’m not going to fucking leave!”

Levi gives him a glare and hopes that animals can’t tune into ghostly yelling.

“What the hell is even going on, Levi? I know shit’s messed up right now, but you’ve never been _this_ hostile. And that’s saying something.”

The words unsettle him, but he chooses not to pay attention.

Adjusting the rifle, Levi inches towards his left, rapidly searching for the body he had just caught a whiff of. Granted, about fifty feet away, is a doe. She’s small, her fur pale, and she’s nosing through a pile of dry leaves.

In the meantime, he realizes that Eren is still ranting behind him.

“Not only did you buy a gun, you’re flinging yourself into situations that are obviously dangerous. It’s like you have some sort of death wish! There’s only room for one suicidal bastard in this lifetime, and that was me. But you know what, Levi? I fucking outgrew it. I became a functioning member of society despite not having a dad to rely on, despite all the bullshit. You don’t have an excuse. I’m right here, and yet you’re acting like—like—…”

The sentence dies away, giving into a sorrowful sort of silence.

“Are you even listening to me?”

He is. Of course he is.

Levi places the stock against the shoulder and takes aim.

It’ll be a poor shot. There’s no possible way he will be able to take her down at this distance, but if he doesn’t take the shot, Eren’s words will pull him away. He needs to overcome the lingering cloud of unnamed urges deep inside his mind, and he won’t be able to do it if Eren forces him to think rationally.

Rationality walked out the front door the moment Eren walked back into his life in the form of a specter. He’s the freak of nature and yet he’s asking Levi to reconsider his seemingly unfunded actions.

There is a reason for his actions, and Levi understands that he can’t confide in Eren what that reason is. He can’t even admit to himself, in the most basic of terms, that the urge to kill an innocent animal is a way for him to feel in control of a seemingly hopeless situation.

Isn’t that why hunters do what they do? Humans, after all, are the only animals who kill for no reason. This is Levi giving his kill a reason. Peace of mind.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Eren says, chuckling humorlessly. He turns away while Levi gets ready to take the shot.

Hyper-aware of his own breathing, Levi steadies his shaking hands. He takes a hesitant step forward, and the crunch of his boot causes the deer to look up, but she doesn’t immediately see him. 

Levi pulls the trigger too soon, not wanting to risk her running off.

He misses by a long shot, the bullet splintering a tree.

The deer darts away, spooked by the noise.

“Fuck!” Levi smacks the stock before running the same hand over his face in his frustration. He could have made the shot if he had waited, if he had been patient. He huffs, trying to shove a lid over his temper.

“This is what I mean,” Eren says, having the audacity to sound smug at being proven right. “It used to take so much more for something to piss you off, for you to verbally strike out.”

Levi rounds on him, gripping the rifle a little too hard. “You know better than to push me,” he says, words void of emotion.

“The only one pushing here is you.”

“Eren.”

“No, you don’t get to ‘Eren’ me, _Levi_. Drop whatever it is you’re trying to prove because it’s not going to work. You seriously _are_ beginning to scare me.”

Levi storms past him, aggravated by the fact that bumping their shoulders together doesn’t grant him the satisfaction he craves. “Says the fucking ghost.”

“Oh, this conversation again,” Eren says, squaring off his shoulders. “You said so yourself! I have done nothing to prove that I’m… bad, or whatever it is you think I am. Maybe, maybe I don’t have a body, but I’m still human.”

“No,” Levi says, turning around to face him. “You’re not a human. Fucking dead is what you are, and the dead should stay dead.”

“You don’t mean that.” It’s more self-assurance rather than an accusation. “You’re just scared.”

“What the hell do you even know?”

“Because when I was ten and I fell from the tree and sprained my ankle, you yelled at me for two days straight. You were scared about what mom would say.”

“Bullshit.”

“Then you tried to be a tough guy while growing up,” Eren says with a tight laugh. “Always so cool and detached, and now what? Now you’re old and alone and all you have is some stupid ghost to keep you fucking company and all you do is throw shit at me!”

Levi doesn’t answer, looking at the angry curve of Eren’s mouth. “Are you done?”

“No, I’m not done! I’ll never be done because everything I ever did was for you, dammit, and you’re acting like I’m the bane of your existence!”

The forest is getting colder, even as the noon sun lingers above the tree canopy.

“Say something,” Eren says, wetting his lips and desperately trying to control his erratic breathing. His fists clench and unclench by his side. “Anything.”

There is nothing to say, Levi decides, because he is tired of having conversations with the dead. And even if he does have a conversation with Eren, it won’t be here and now. He needs to gather his wits, and once again act like the mentor he had been.

Levi has no idea how the afterlife works, but he assumes that what Eren has to do is cross over. He will deal with whatever’s in the house, and with the darker demons inside his mind. Right now, Levi’s priority is to rid himself of Eren, for both their sakes.

Ready to turn away and head towards civilization, Levi is interrupted by Eren’s hold.

He’s manhandled and slammed against his tree, the wind knocked out of him.

Eren uses his height to his advantage, encroaching on Levi and pinning him in place with an eyeless glare. Hands resting against the tree, above his head, Eren creates the illusion of a cage; a carefully constructed one especially for Levi.

However, Levi doesn’t fear him.

Electricity caresses his skin, inviting the hair along his nape and arms to stand on end. The temperature plunges until it’s almost icy, and Levi can see his breath dance before him. The sensation in his gut is similar to that of standing before a skyscraper and admiring the vastness of it, even while unable to see the end.

Eren is unmoving, his mouth twisted into an angry scowl.

At least they share a mutual feeling of contempt towards the situation.

“I’m not going to leave until you force me out,” Eren whispers, his words like frigid steel. “If your fits weren’t enough to drive me away when I was a kid, then they sure as hell aren’t enough to do so now.”

“I want you out.”

“No, you don’t,” Eren says, still hushed. Sunlight bounces off his lucid hair.

It’s the closest they have ever been, and from here, Levi can see the unblemished skin. He can see the pattern of the fabric over his eyes, as well as its stains. The dryness of his lips, the small curve of his nose. All of them boyish features he never quite grew into.

His eyes linger on the bandages.

“Defiance goes both ways, Eren,” he says, and the words come wrapped in an unspoken apology.

There’s a beat of stillness before Eren begins to pull away, realizing that something is out of place, but he doesn’t get very far.

Levi moves, relying on lightning fast reflexes, even if it feels that time has slowed to a stop.

His fingers grab a good hold of the tattered bandages, and he pulls them up and off Eren’s head.

Eren’s eyes blink rapidly as Levi lets the long strips fall from his hand, the pieces of fabric disintegrating before they hit the ground. There’s fury there, a sense of betrayal, but all Levi cares about is the absence of color – those blue-green irises are no more. 

His eyes are pale gray with just the barest hint of gold. Clouded and old.

Taking a step back, Eren touches his face, and when his fingers meet his eyes, they widen with a sickening look of horror.

“Why would you…?”

“Deny my request for you to leave, I’ll deny you yours.”

Eren’s nostrils flare, and Levi pats himself on the back for not gasping when he’s shoved right back onto the tree with enough force to bruise his back.

“Do you really think I was wearing this because I wanted to?!”

“Do you really think I care?”

“Levi, this isn’t a joke!” Eren rubs his fists over his eyes, and it’s only then that Levi realizes he’s been crying. He’s downright sobbing, looking down at his feet in shame and regret. “I paid a price for this, and there are rules.”

Eren makes an anguished sound, one that’s like a physical squeeze to Levi’s chest.

He wants to state the obvious, in case Eren doesn’t know that the color of his eyes is wrong. If he does know this, Levi wants to ask why. More questions, is all Levi seems to be getting as the days sluggishly crawl by.

Levi hates it.

He wishes he can put the blindfold back because these aren’t the eyes he grew to learn and love. Of course, Eren went beyond his eyes alone, but there’s something so fundamentally wrong with the sight before him. They’re unreal, as if they have been removed from a doll and shoved into Eren’s sockets.

Something inside of Levi breaks, but he can’t put a name to it.

“I fucked up,” Eren says, hands now covering his mouth. “Oh, god, I fucked up.”

Levi shakes his head, guilty. “Eren.”

But by the time he reaches out his hand, he’s already gone.

•••

Erwin arrives with an uncharacteristically fake smile on his face and Chinese takeout. It’s 7:00pm and neither of them says much aside of him asking about Eren, but Levi only offers him a shrug in reply.

The food goes mostly untouched, and gets stored away in the fridge for another time.

The house gets lit up early on, secured as best as possible.

“The lady at the pharmacy told me that salt would keep out the bad things,” Levi tells Erwin.

“Do you have any?” he asks without hesitation.

“Not the kind she mentioned.”

“Then we should get some tomorrow.”

While Erwin settles on the couch, Levi gets to cleaning the already clean kitchen, scrubbing the countertops, the stools, the floor, the refrigerator. He wipes and scrubs, inhaling the potent fumes of chemicals without bother.

His hands feel cold and wet, as if he’s been playing in mud, but only colder. It sets off an itch in his palms and no matter how much he scratches, it won’t go away. And so, he scrubs harder. Levi immerses himself in the thoughtless process of perfection.

Round, round, round he goes, creating lather, white and flawless. But his hands still itch, even when he shoves them under the sink’s tap.

He closes his hands, squeezing until his nails bite into his palms and still no relief comes. The desperation is just as ominous as the darkness that now bleeds from the stairwell, the one Erwin had made sure to light up. Levi doesn’t recall hitting the switch, or anything of the sort.

With a ball in his throat, he shuts off the faucet.

Heat, he decides; he needs heat. It’s only obvious that heat can combat cold.

Levi searches for an old lighter in the junk drawer, only to discover it empty.

He looks around the kitchen for anything that may be of use, and stops when his eyes land on the stove.

Wasting gas on something like a phantom itch is preposterous, but Levi is at the end of his rope. The itch, the cold, and the wet feelings are all present, but not enough to be deemed physical. Like the expectation of pain, it’s there, lingering and drowning him with the need to just get rid of it.

Tea. He’ll make tea and set his hands by the fire, killing two birds with one stone.

Again with the killing; Eren would be disappointed.

“I’ll make it,” Eren says, and Levi whips around with too-wide eyes.

For the first time, he hadn’t heard or felt him creep up.

“That’s fine.”

“I insist,” he says, walking past Levi and being extra careful not to touch him. “Sit down. You look tired.”

He is, more than words can possibly convey. Levi wants to tell Eren to get out of his kitchen, that he needs to warm up his hands, but something stops him.

No reason at all; Levi just stops.

He doesn’t want to talk to Eren, feeling like he can’t. For the first time, he genuinely feels uncomfortable in his presence, but that’s probably because he can now see his eyes. He isn’t just some apparition; he’s Eren now, complete and unhindered, even with different colored eyes.

Before he can register it, his feet are moving, guiding him around the island to sit on one of the freshly polished stools.

Levi watches Eren’s back while he moves around the kitchen, pulling out the things he needs. Nobody talks, and by the looks of it, Erwin is already asleep.

The entire day feels wrong in a visceral way. There is heaviness in the nothingness of words unspoken, or in those spoken too freely.

There is an odd crawl across the wooden floors, one that wraps itself around the stool and makes its way up Levi’s back on a thousand tiny feet like needles.

This is wrong, so wrong, so _wrong_ , and he can’t say why.

The kettle whistles and Eren silently pours him his tea. 

He doesn’t let it steep long enough. He doesn’t put enough sugar, enough honey, and it’s like watching a sacrilege unfold before his very eyes.

There is no familiarity in the way Eren places the mug on the island countertop, and slowly pushes it towards Levi. He doesn’t speak, and he doesn’t meet his eyes.

Levi looks down at it, takes it despite the warnings inside his head.

The black tea tastes putrid. 

Just like everything else, like the odd smile on Eren’s mouth – it tastes wrong.


	8. Pale Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I want to thank everyone who's been kind enough to drop reviews and the like. Wow. I never really expected so much wonderful feedback! I really do hope that this piece continues to inspire awesome fear to the point in which none of you will ever be able to sleep. Ever. I love you all.
> 
> Art! This time by tumblr user [hypermanica](http://hypermanica.tumblr.com/), who made [this absolutely stunning (and not to mention heartbreaking) piece](http://hypermanica.tumblr.com/post/86006544739/i-paid-a-price-for-this-and-there-are-rules). 
> 
> And now, on to the chapter.~

“You think you’re ready to shoot live game again?” Eren asks. He’s lounging on the couch, using the jacket Erwin left behind as a pillow.

Levi doesn’t stop typing, nor does he look away from the letters popping up on the screen. He needs this report done by noon. “Positive,” he says, frowning when the chime of a new email momentarily catches his attention.

“Here’s to hoping you didn’t waste your time at the shooting range,” Eren says with a chuckle. “Or money. Did you pay for those lessons, or did Erwin?”

“I did,” and Eren would have known this if he stuck around more often.

It’s been a month since their last fight, and things have been pleasantly tranquil since then. No misplaced light bulbs or phantom footsteps, and even the hallway has vanished into the pits of hell from which it came.

The price for said normalcy, however, has proven steep.

Countless nights have been lost to long hours spent thinking, trying to piece two and two together. Levi knows exactly when things changed, but he doesn’t know why. At first he assumed it was because Eren was mad at him, but now, he isn’t so sure.

Eren’s attitude has soured, shifted towards something more sarcastic, and he constantly makes an indirect jab at Levi by preparing his tea wrong. The kid isn’t above throwing tantrums that can last months on end, but this is different. Eren smiles, cracks jokes, acts as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. There isn’t the slightest bit of anger in him.

Yet, he’s different.

Another part of Levi understands that the subtle coldness is well deserved. He directly violated Eren’s wishes, stripped him bare of what was probably the only thing that gave him comfort. Guilt won’t stop eating away at him, but he tries his best not to wallow on it. What’s done is done, and Eren no longer looks as bothered by it – save for the exceptions of making bad tea to spite him, and leaving during the weekends.

As the activity decreased, the safer Levi felt about staying in the house.

It’s Wednesday morning, and he decides to give Erwin and Mike their space.

“We should take you for a test run,” Eren says, rolling over on the couch until he’s resting on his stomach.

His pale eyes are a new trait Levi will never get used to.

Perhaps, it’s better to not have him stick around as much, even if Levi is left to wonder where he runs off to. “Weren’t you against me shooting things?”

“Since I can’t stop you, I might as well be a supportive husband.”

Levi types in the date, saves the document, and emails it to Erwin.

Since when has Eren been one to give up his morals? Even for Levi.

“Thank you,” he says, cautiously. He opens the email from before, and finds it to be an invitation from Hanji to go bowling next Saturday. He deletes it.

Eren scratches at his chin and swings his legs up until he crosses them at the ankles. “Can I ask you a question?” He bunches up the jacket between his arms, and uses it to cushion the side of his head.

“What?”

Eren smiles. “If you were given the chance to change how things are,” he says, shutting his eyes. “Would you?”

Levi minimizes the browser, and closes the laptop. “How honest do you want me to be?”

“Brutally.” There’s force behind that word, like it tastes pleasantly sharp on his tongue.

Turning towards Eren, Levi props an elbow against the table on the middle of the living room. He looks him over, tracing the soft curve of his back and the strong column of his neck. Broad shoulders, wide back, the swell of hips, a tight ass, strong thighs, and cute feet. This vision of Eren is perfect except for his eyes.

Questions that begin with a what-if are useless, and Levi hardly ever entertains them. Once a choice is made, a path chosen, all that is left to do is hope that no regrets make themselves at home once all is said and done.

If he had stayed home that day, if he’d driven home ten minutes earlier, if, if, if – if Eren hadn’t died, something else would have happened somewhere down the line. Butterfly wings causing typhoons and all of that.

“No,” Levi answers, plain and simple. “Changing the now would render every difficult choice obsolete, and no one would be happy to learn that their darkest moments have been suffered in vain.”

“That’s pretty selfish.”

Levi shrugs. “You can’t be anyone’s hero unless you save your own skin first. If their empire falls, how can you possibly expect to be able to hold both crumbling castles?”

“Like on airplanes,” Eren muses out loud, “When the flight attendants say to put on your oxygen mask before helping those next to you, even if they’re children.”

“Something like that.”

Eren makes a nondescript sound, taking a lock of his hair and idly twirling it around his finger. “You wouldn’t want me back from the dead?”

“You’re right there,” Levi says, close to rolling his eyes.

“True.” With a yawn, Eren sits up. His shirt is wrinkled, and a flash of his stomach can be seen. “But…” Levi watches him stand up on wobbly legs and cross the short distance from the couch to the spot of the floor where Levi is sitting at. “So far you’ve been reluctant to fuck a ghost.”

The thought has crossed his mind once or twice, but the last thing Levi would find himself intentionally thinking about is having sex with his dead husband.

“I never knew ghosts could get horny,” Levi says, uncurling himself when Eren kneels down, straddling his lap. “I’ll admit, I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Eren’s smile is lopsided, and his right hand comes up to lazily scratch at his stomach.

It’s a tactic Levi knows well. The kid knows how to manipulate perfectly mundane actions, turning them into temptations Levi can’t turn away from. Running a hand over the back of the neck, scratching his belly, idly toying with the hair underneath his navel – pushing his pants low enough to give Levi a good view of his still-limp cock…

“Don’t think about it too much,” Eren says, leaning in to press a kiss to Levi’s cheek. “Just get your hand in my pants.”

He won’t lie to himself by saying that he doesn’t want to sleep with Eren, but he has his standards. “Eren—”

Eren silences him with a quick kiss to the mouth.

The sound of a zipper being dragged down draws Levi’s attention, but he doesn’t look. He can only see, just out of the corner of his eyes, as Eren licks his palm.

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Eren says. “Just let me get off to you, okay? Unlike someone, I don’t have anyone to service me in the afterlife.”

At this, Levi does fully look at him, if only to glare. “I haven’t slept with him.”

“But you think about it all the time,” he says, his fist now moving over the dark skin of his cock. “You would always brag about how big he is, and how you could take him.”

Levi swallows with a hint of difficulty.

Eren’s lips part, soft breaths coming out in sporadic puffs.

“Look,” he says, squeezing the base of his cock. “You still make me hard, Levi. Fuck, do you make me hard.” Leaning forward, Eren grabs Levi’s shoulder with his free hand. “Did I ever t-tell you that the first time I touched myself was because of you?”

His cock answers for him.

“I was thirteen,” Eren says, his hips beginning to jerk over Levi’s lap. “Armin kept smuggling porn magazines but… _shit_ … boobs never really did it for me.” His chuckle is breathy and choked, dragged away by a moan. “And then you had to walk into the living room, sweaty t-shirt, some cheesy bandana wrapped around your forehead to keep your bangs out of your eyes…” Eren’s hand goes faster. “Fuck, I remember it so well. Your hair was long so you would tie it back with a ponytail.”

Levi does remember that day. He had stopped by to paint the Jaegers’ house.

“Even during dinner,” Eren continues, his moans and groans barely contained. “I couldn’t keep from touching myself under the table.”

Hands now on Eren’s thighs, Levi squeezes them, pulling Eren closer to his body. 

He shouldn’t do this, something is telling him to resist, but the way he moves on his lap, the way his cock strains between his fingers, it’s too much. His cheeks are flushed, his lips cracked, but Eren continues to jack himself.

“What did you do about it?” Levi finds himself asking, humping Eren right back. “Tell me what you did.”

“I h-hid under the covers that night,” he says, but stops when an agonizingly delicious moan slips past his lips. “Fucking—fucking shit, it was so good. Oh, my god, Levi, it was so fucking amazing, touching my dick while thinking it was you who was kissing me, touching me…”

Levi hides his face against Eren’s shoulder, relishing the concreteness of him, even while being cold to the touch. “Did you come?” he asks, fighting off every urge to reach in and jerk himself off in return.

Surprisingly, Eren lets go of himself. 

“No,” he confides with a devilish smirk. “Every time you’d come over, I’d touch myself, because the memory of how you smelled or how you felt was still fresh on my mind.” Cock erect and bobbing, Eren looks down at it with something akin to rapture. “I kept getting hard, stroking myself, but I never came, never let myself, until the time I saw you kissing Petra goodnight.”

The memory is hazy, but he does recall kissing Petra goodnight at the doorsteps of the Jaeger household. Back then, the two of them had been all hormones.

“I remember the way you licked her mouth.” Eren is whispering, eyes dimmed and heated. “And the way she squeezed your ass. That night I imagined you were doing those things to me and, and fuck, I came so fucking hard.”

Levi’s cock jerks, sending tense heat in every direction.

“And you’re gonna do the same now,” Levi concludes, his voice utterly wrecked.

Palm to Levi’s cheek, Eren gives it a playful slap. “I’ll only come when daddy wants to do so, too.”

Levi’s eyes widen despite himself. “That’s unfair.”

“You’re the one reluctant to have sex with me.”

“I might reconsider.”

Eren chuckles, but before Levi can reach for him, he’s already getting to his feet. His erection bobs awkwardly, and he gives it one last stroke, before tucking himself back in with a hiss. He jumps in place and flexes his legs, getting himself comfortable.

The bulge in his jeans invites Levi to pin him down and lick at it, gently bite it until Eren comes in his pants, but he does have a level of self control.

“Let’s go hunting,” Eren says, giving his crotch a squeeze. “There’s nothing like a gun to get me all hot and bothered.”

•••

A thin layer of snow now covers the ground.

Only ankle deep, Levi easily trudges through it, but the bulk on him remains awkward to move in. Holding the rifle, on the other hand, has become easier after weeks of practice.

“I miss fall,” Eren says, happily wrapped in his coat. He looks radiant and handsome against the white and brown backdrop of the forest. Even his cheeks are pink, giving the illusion of life. “I like it when the trees are withering and stuff. Winter’s so… blah; especially when living with a humbug.”

Eyes on the ground, carefully scanning the area for any sort of tracks, Levi makes a noncommittal sound. “I assumed you would decorate the place yourself, how you always do.”

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Eren shrugs. “Didn’t know we had any decorations.”

“They’re in a box in the storeroom,” Levi says, stepping over a fallen trunk. “Like always. I’m pretty sure your mother’s menorah is there, too.”

“Oh,” Eren says, before stopping dead in his tracks.

Levi nearly walks into him if it isn’t for the hand that lands on his shoulder, keeping him at arm’s length. “What is it?” he asks, but every other question dies away when Eren closes the space between them to steal a quick kiss.

“We can work this out, right?”

“Work what out?”

“This… mess,” Eren says. The hand he has on Levi’s shoulder comes up to card through his hair, and his fingers feel amazing against the grain of his undercut. “I know it isn’t normal, but maybe we can find some middle ground.”

Licking his lips, Levi keeps walking. “Are you really that desperate to get laid?”

Eren pretends to think for a moment. “Well, _yeah_ , duh, but that’s not completely it.”

“Out with it.”

“Like I said that one time, it wasn’t easy to get here. Cost me more than an arm and a leg, so to speak,” he says, pointing at his eyes. “I know what you’re going to say, and you’re right, we’ve been through this before. But, you know, maybe if we talk about it? Get everything out there?”

Levi stops walking for a moment, giving the forest around him a quick once over before deciding on which direction to take. He figures he can take the same trail as the first time he tried this, and push on until he finds a dense enough spot to settle down close to.

"I’m listening,” and it’s only partly true.

Eren rarely repeats himself, and for him to do so now only adds a layer of foreignness to him that serves to irritate Levi all the more. They have talked about this, they did reach an accord, and it was Eren who breached it. He promised to stay away and he didn’t. He promised to not push Levi and he did. All Levi did was retaliate.

No reply comes for a while, and on more than one occasion, Eren tugs on Levi’s sleeve, guiding him towards where he thinks they may get lucky.

“I want us to be comfortable,” Eren says, his boots crunching over the snow. “You know, just, me giving you a foot rub after work. Sharing meals, showering together, cooking together. The whole domestic thing? I kinda miss that. Don’t you?”

More than he cares to admit, actually. “If that’s what you want,” he says nonchalantly.

“But do _you_ want it? I’d only be a bother if you didn’t.”

Levi sighs. “I haven’t been able to gauge you,” he says, frowning when Eren stops walking a few feet in front of him. “You keep changing.”

Slowly, Eren turns to face him, and for once his face is eerily blank. An expression better suited for Levi rather than him. “What do you mean?”

For no real reason, but finding that it gives him some level of peace, Levi adjusts the rifle’s sling until he’s holding the gun firmly in his hands. “You wanted me to be honest, didn’t you? You changed.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You don’t slip into bed when I’m asleep,” Levi says, managing to keep his tone disinterested. “You don’t wait for me at the door when I get home, you haven’t touched the ice cream.”

“Oh, so you want me to be a good little dog and wait on you, hand and foot?”

A chill caresses the back of Levi’s neck.

Another repeated conversation, and this one they had a year before Eren’s death. 

It was Levi telling Eren to not act like a faithful servant, but Eren had assured him that he did it out of the goodness of his heart. Eren wanted to be a good little boy for his husband, and Levi eventually accepted, with the condition that he was to pamper and shower Eren with tender affection when they went to bed.

This was the only aspect in Eren’s life where he chose to be submissive.

Rather than being insulted by Eren’s current proclamation, Levi unwillingly accepts that this Eren is different.

Nana’s comment regarding the house comes to mind again. The source of an echo becomes distorted the longer and further it travels, so maybe that’s all this version of Eren is. A worn down echo.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Levi hates the word as much as he hates the implication of it. There’s nothing substantial he can rely on, only half theories that are often dispelled whenever Eren gives him a nice smile.

Either way, Levi decides to tread carefully. He’ll humor Eren for as long as possible, but he won’t blindly give himself over to an apparition.

“You seem to have forgotten how to make tea as well,” Levi comments. He nudges the stock against Eren’s ribs as he passes by him.

Eren glares at him. “My bad, your majesty.”

Levi is about to retort when the sound of rushing water interrupts him.

The creek flows through here, on the other side of a cluster of trees.

Cold be damned, Levi can feel sweat forming at the base of his spine.

“I’d say you look like you’ve seen a ghost but, you know,” Eren says, appearing in front of Levi and crossing his arms. “What is it?”

Levi looks from the trees, to an impatient Eren. “I don’t think this is the right place,” he says, the time and place not being right to discuss things such as nightmares and fears.

“Are you crazy? This is perfect!” Eren says, grabbing a hold of Levi’s gun sling and pulling him towards the shore. “Everything else’s frozen over. You can bet there’s bound to be something around here, somewhere.”

Eren’s strength is as overwhelming as it’s always been, and removing the rifle isn’t an option. Levi goes where he’s guided, controlling the sense of nausea that grips his throat and stomach. A part of him begs to reach out for Eren and cling to his sleeve, to anything, in order to keep him from vanishing like he did in his nightmare.

His pride wins, and Levi opts to tightening his grip on the gun.

The creek is similar to the one he saw in the dream, but it’s not exactly the same. Relatively wider, the stones and boulders in it are a pale gray rather than the inky black he remembers seeing. It’s brighter, too, what little sunlight bleeds through dark clouds reflecting off its surface and illuminating the trees along its shores.

Facing it now, that eerie scenery he had witnessed that night dims away like an old memory, replaced by the brilliance before his eyes. As if he had never dreamed it all, Levi doesn’t fear getting near the water.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Eren says, letting go of Levi to walk closer to the snowy embankment.

“Have you been here before?”

“Twice,” he says. “You should have seen it during the fall.” Eren smiles. “Now, imagine it in summer. Man, it should be gorgeous.”

“Everything looks better in summer,” Levi says, offhandedly, as he looks for a place to perch in. If Dimo was right, waiting for game will take him a handful of hours.

“Remember that one time at the beach?” Eren says, right beside Levi’s ear.

He manages not to startle, but he does gives Eren a good shove. “Don’t do that when I’m armed.”

“What are you gonna do, accidentally kill a ghost?” Eren laughs, wrapping his arms around Levi’s waist and pressing his cold lips just behind Levi’s ear. “The first time I saw you in swimming trunks—”

“Was the time I almost drowned you,” Levi finishes, pulling himself away from Eren’s embrace. The southern sun hadn’t agreed with him, roasting Levi to the point where he looked more lobster than human. He had been the butt of a dozen jokes for years. “I’ll find a way to shoot you.”

“All right, Mr. Hunter. Where we gonna perch at?”

Levi chooses a spot south of the creek, where the thicker brush can keep him just out of sight. From inside his pack, he pulls out an ear of corn, a chopped apple, and a diced carrot, and lays it out unevenly between the trees east and west of his location.

As noon peaks, the weather turns colder, and Levi curses under his breath. He hadn’t layered enough, and the cold is starting to seep through his neck as he remains stationary. Not even the hot seat offers much relief.

In front of him Eren is pacing back and forth, endless amounts of energy bursting off his corporeal form. He hums, draws on the snow with a stick, before kicking his canvas clean. He sighs in aggravation, bored of waiting, and irritated at Levi’s unwillingness to talk.

“How long are we going to stay here, again?”

Levi shrugs, scanning the surrounding area from between two trees. So far, there has been no sign of movement or sound, for the exception of that of running water.

“I’m bored.”

Struck by a brilliant thought, Levi hands Eren his phone, but not before making sure that it’s been set to vibrate.

It works. Eren keeps himself entertained with numbered blocks. Hopefully, deer can’t hear ghosts’ frustrated growling and empty threats of smashing phones that don’t belong to them.

“You think you’d able to wound the deer without killing it?” Eren says, his attention still on the game. “I kind of want a pet.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “We’re not adopting a deer,” he says, mindful to keep his voice just above a whisper.

“Either way, do you think they’d be easy to train?”

“They aren’t dogs.”

“Yeah.” Eren puts the phone down on his lap, presumably after having lost again. “How do you think training works, though? Do you have to be smart, or stupid? I mean, you can train a baby to do specific stuff, and you can train a dog to do specific stuff. Both are totally different species with different mental capabilities, but in the end… you can make them do specific stuff.”

Attention caught, Levi brings his attention from the field, to Eren. “I think you’re confusing learning and behaviorism.”

“But can’t you learn a type of behavior?”

“Humans can, but not to that kind of extent.”

“But animals can.” It’s a statement phrased more or less like a question.

“By extensive training.”

“Humans can be trained, too,” Eren says. His words are a low and thoughtful murmur. “Like the dogs who drool at the sound of a bell.”

An uncomfortable knot forms in Levi’s throat. 

Not one for these types of conversations, it’s strange to see Eren actively partaking in one. Levi can almost see the cogs working in his head, as if Eren really is going to adopt and train a deer, with or without Levi’s consent.

“Psychology wasn’t my best subject at college,” Eren says, stating the obvious. “But it’s still interesting.”

“Do you intend to train me?”

The question may have been better left unsaid, but Levi needs to know the layers of the game he is certain is being played. Their current level is still up for debate.

Eren’s stare is sharp but kind, his mouth forming a genuine smile. “Isn’t that Erwin’s job?”

Levi’s eyes widen a fraction of an inch, not expecting the jab. He shifts his weight from one knee to the other. “No need to be jealous.”

“Not my fault that I am,” he says, bringing up his legs to better keep himself warm. He rests his chin over his knees, resembling an angsty teenager. “I mean, I gave up more than half of myself to come back, and this is how you repay me.”

“I didn’t ask you to come back.”

“Ungrateful, much?”

“Says the selfish one.”

“Death does this thing where it rips away your conscience,” Eren explains, still smiling. “I’m done being the perfect little ray of sunshine.”

Levi’s fingers slide along the barrel of the rifle. “Then are you even Eren anymore?”

“What guarantees you I was ever me to begin with?”

“Delusions of a grief stricken widow,” Levi says, coolly.

“Good,” Eren says. He stands up with a grunt and pats off whatever snow is clinging to his jeans and coat. “It’s easier to train a horse that’s already been broken.”

Levi swats at his ankles when he feels the sting of a fire ant, only to realize that nothing has bit him. The anger he feels, this wrath, is something that has been growing in the back of his mind and he hadn’t even noticed. He doesn’t have to play it calm, because he is perfectly in control of his composure, despite being blinded by rage.

Is this his confession?

The added confusion only adds to the fire.

“If this is going to work, you’re going to have to be honest with me,” Levi says, his hands shifting over the rifle.

“I have been honest, you just haven’t been listening.”

“Bullshit.”

“I told you not to touch the bandages around my head and what did you do? You ripped them off.” Eren runs a hand over his face, as if making sure that it’s still there. “Watch that come and bite you on the ass.”

The sound of a breaking branch snags both of their attention, and Levi spins around just in time to catch movement on the west side of the bank. Far off and moving fast, Levi promptly gets up and weaves his way through the trees, looking for a better place to take aim.

Eren is behind him, but his attention, too, is set on the animal.

Sunlight over snow makes it nearly impossible to properly track the black mass moving at the top of the ridge, but from his vantage point, Levi is confident than he can make the shot. Always the fast learner, perfecting his aim at the range had been easy, and besides, confidence is the key.

He ignores the cold that seeps through his front when he gets down on the snow, the rifle’s stock neat against his shoulder to facilitate his view through the scope. Still, all he can see is a mass eerily similar to the buck in his nightmare. Regardless of what it is, Levi will take it down and call it a victory, however small.

The form moves quickly, almost sprinting behind the trees. As if it knows Levi is watching it, it hides and lurks, using the sun’s glare to shield itself from potential harm. Levi isn’t deterred by the behavior.

“It’s moving away,” Eren whispers, urgently, and it is. It’s moving further up the ridge, and if Levi doesn’t take the shot, he’ll have to move his impromptu camp. Tracking isn’t exactly his forte. “Levi?”

Levi ignores him, his finger caressing the smooth curve of the trigger.

He lets the world fall away. Everything from the cold of the snow, the bitterness of unresolved frustration, to the unsettling anger vanishes by the next blink of his eyelids. The sound of rushing water becomes nothing but white noise.

“Take the damn shot!” Eren hisses, but it doesn’t bother Levi. For the first time, Eren’s uncharacteristic actions doesn’t throw him off.

_Wait,_ Dimo’s voice reverberates in the back of his mind. _Study its habits, how it moves, what it likes, and wait. Make yourself comfortable, wait three years if you have to, but don’t rush the shot. Don’t scare it away. Wait._

Levi doesn’t wait.

He pulls the trigger with his next inhale, and doesn’t let go of the breath until he sees the body hit the ground.

Beside him, Eren releases a sigh of relief that morphs into a laugh halfway through. “That was awesome,” he says, beaming down at Levi and extending a hand to help him up. He takes it. “Let’s go see how well you did.”

Eren goes ahead while Levi packs up what little he'd brought along with him, and a buzz lights up his fingertips. The kickback of a gun is satisfying when adrenaline is running high. There is nothing more gratifying than the process of plotting, acting, and achieving.

Making sure that nothing gets left behind, Levi jogs his way up to his game, only to be confused by the look on Eren’s face when he gets there.

At first, there is nothing to see.

All Levi registers is an odd buzzing sound in the back of his mind, and the sight of unblemished white snow. The occasional dry tree catches the edge of his sight when he looks around. The sun momentarily blinds him.

But then, it all begins to appear.

It starts with the blood that stains the bed of white. A red so sharp and deep, it’s surreally beautiful when it comes into contact with his black boots. Yet, still, the image in front of him is a slowly fading blur.

There are no antlers, just a spray of blond hair.

No fur; but a jacket and a pair of jeans.

No hooves, either. A pair of running sneakers lay askew.

Glossy, blue eyes stare up at the gray sky, unseeing.

Where questions should be forming, there is nothing but a net of static that prevents Levi from making sense of what he knows he is seeing. Muteness numbs him, his fingers, his toes.

Eren slowly crouches down, carefully avoiding the blood soaked snow. His hands come up, pulling away the jacket’s lapels and revealing even more red, a pool of it in the dark fabric of a worn-out sweater.

There is a hole on its chest, right over its heart.

_It,_ because Levi refuses to call it a _he._

Eren covers the fatal wound, and he’s prudent enough to keep his face schooled into a neutral expression as he looks up at Levi. With his lips pressed into a thin line, he shakes his head.

The scene grows farther and farther away, until he realizes that it’s just him, taking step after step as if he can run – fast and hard – away from what he’s done.

Dropping his gear onto the snow, he places a hand over his mouth. Yet again, his hands feel cold and wet, and it’s nothing but his fault.

It’s his honest to god fault and there’s nothing he can do about it now.


	9. Trophies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note to say that everyone's reaction to that last chapter was absolutely _superb._ And this is, quite literally, only the beginning. Various trigger warnings for this chapter, namely for mentions of child abuse, emotional manipulation, and very mild dubious consent. Proceed at own discretion.
> 
> As per usual, beta'd by the fabulous [kiokushitaka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kiokushitaka/works).
> 
> Enjoy.

The kettle whistles.

“Please, drink your tea.”

The mug is placed on the island countertop with a soft thump. The ceramic grates against the marble of the surface as it’s pushed towards him. Eren’s sigh is loud. The house creaks, the wood groans, noise crackles in his mind and everything is just noise, noise, _noise._

Nothing stops to listen, much less to breathe, and it’s suffocating him, pulling him under the surface into a dark place there’s no escaping from. A place that’s cold and wet and scarlet; a place made out of snow and wild animals that want to eat him alive.

But at the same time, everything is quiet against the screaming in his head. The litany of questions aimed at himself are plentiful, and everything else is inconsequential. 

Why doesn’t he feel?

No regret, no worry, no fear, no panic, nothing. There’s a great big deal of nothing inside all of the battling sounds. There is blood on his hands and he feels nothing but the winter cold.

“Levi,” Eren says, touching his shoulder and giving it a shake. “You’re in shock. You need something warm in your system.”

Eren. Eren with his false little smile and personality cracked right down the middle. Two sides of the same coin. A theater mask painted black and white.

“I need to call the police,” Levi says, the phrase inspiring a sense of déjà vu. “I need-”

“We already went through this.” Eren is annoyed, angry. “We can’t get the cops involved.” Something is wrong with him, _in_ him. “Friendly reminder that you were the only suspect involved in my murder. God knows what’ll happen if they chalk this one off to you, too.”

“I killed him.”

“It was a mistake.”

“No,” Levi says, the single word wavering before repeating it with conviction. “No. Breaking a mirror is a mistake. Burning dinner or putting too much alcohol into a drink is a mistake. Putting a bullet in an unsuspecting runner? Burying him in the forest? That’s not a mistake, Eren. That’s purposefully evading the law.”

“All the more reason why we shouldn’t get the cops involved.”

“Eren, I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can! Goddamit, you were more than willing to shoot down a deer. And now that you took the shot you’re regretting it?”

Levi looks up at Eren, the first dredges of anxiety finally taking hold. “I shot a _person._ ”

“You shot a _human_ ,” Eren forcefully corrects. He straightens himself out, his hands gripping the edge of the counter. “We’re all animals. For all you know, he was probably a shitty one at that.”

“That doesn’t even begin to justify it.”

“How do you know, huh? If he was a god fearing man, he got granted an all-expense-paid trip to the pearly white gates. But if he was something else?” Eren drags out the last word and pulls away from the counter. He walks around it to stand behind Levi, his hands coming down to gently knead at his shoulders. “What if he was a principal who liked touching little boys?” he whispers, dropping a kiss atop of Levi’s hair.

Levi stiffens.

Animals. Humans are animals. 

No, they’re worse, because animals kill to eat. Humans are animals who destroy, just like his father destroyed him - just like his principal destroyed him.

The accusation is absurd, false, because there is no possible way for Eren to even know that about the man.

“Either way, I believe you made both the guy and the world a favor.”

It’s so cold that even the chill of Eren’s body feels pleasantly warm where it presses against Levi’s back. His arms are unwilling to let go of him, wrapping around Levi’s upper arms and squeezing him. A hand softly cradles Levi’s chin, a thumb caressing his bottom lip.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through,” Eren says, still whispering. “But you’ll rise above it, just like you always do. You’ll see that it isn’t so bad, Levi. Everything is going to be all right.”

Levi’s hands tighten around the hot mug when Eren mouths at his throat, his hand dragging down the fabric of his shirt.

“Sorry if that sounds a little harsh,” he says, chuckling against Levi’s shoulder, where he’s stopped to press yet another kiss. “You feel differently when you’re dead. The whole world is thrown into perspective.”

“This is going too far,” is all Levi manages to say once he finds his voice again. Regardless, he doesn’t have the power to stop Eren’s advances. “You, this house, this… this…”

“I love you,” Eren says, hushed and broken. The touches stop, his arms focusing on hugging Levi from behind. “Oh, god, I love you so much.” Like hitting a switch, he’s a completely different person. Levi can hear the tremulous emotions of man who is still a kid at heart. For the first time, all doubt of whether or not this entity is Eren are dispelled. This kind of gentle devotion can’t so easily be faked. “I don’t know what I’d do if they took you from me again,” he says, nearly sobbing against Levi’s hair.

Levi refrains from moving, torn between resigning to the loving touch, and ripping himself away from the con. He doesn’t want to think on it, his mind nothing but a jumbled mess of contradictions.

“Selfish, I know,” Eren continues, resting his chin over Levi’s shoulder. “But I guess there are things not even death can change, huh?”

“I killed a man,” Levi says, as if repeating it will drive the fact home.

Eren is romanticizing the situation, weaving it into a tale of compassion and understanding. He really is a child, making games of heroes and villains out of tragic news reports. It’s twisted and wrong and Levi wants no part of this.

Years ago he chose to set himself straight, to become a respectful adult. He isn’t about to let some lovestruck phantasm bend him.

“Not saying you didn’t,” Eren says, sighing. “Just being a supportive husband.”

“This is fucked up,” Levi grits out, pushing the mug away.

Eren says something, but he doesn’t hear him too well. The static is back, eating away at the corner of his sight and thoughts.

Levi pushes away the senseless brutality, leaving only what he needs to live. The process of shutting himself inside a bubble is surprisingly easy, despite not having done so for years. Here, he’s untouchable. Here, he can think and analyze what he will do without any sort of exterior contamination.

The world beneath his feet shifts wildly, bouncing in the form of waves and jarring him. He manages not to fall by blindly groping his way to wherever it is he needs to go. The absence of a destination doesn’t deter him, because anywhere is better than this place.

Self-imposed isolation goes hand in hand with madness, Levi discovers, and the hand is soft and warm, leading him to safety. Somewhere out there, he will be able to witness terra firma once more. Until then, he figures that stumbling blindly through muddled fields of sight is the next best thing.

The one downside he finds is the constant coldness, but then again, he’s been enveloped in the same frozen burn for months. Without respite, he can go as far as saying that he has grown accustomed to it. By this point, the cold is the only thing that is still familiar.

Winter is familiar. Its smell is crisp in Levi’s nose, pure and untainted. Much like the smell of earth after a rainfall, snow has a particular scent to it that brings back memories of a childhood spent in the French countryside.

Familiarity is what he needs.

Eren had once been familiar, but not anymore. Be it him or not, he’s a complete stranger now, stilted and trapped in death.

Erwin is familiar. He’s a security blanket and an anchor.

But something that is also familiar is the feeling of something between his hands. The sensation of a solid object between his frozen fingers is a relief from the nonsensical thoughts. It triggers a hint of pain, a sting, and Levi takes all the more comfort in it. Better to trust someone who promises to hurt you, than someone who promises to never leave your side. The former can always be kept.

He finds himself sinking on unsteady feet, and then falling to his knees in a puddle of mud on a fresh spring morning. Spring in the park, where he and Erwin shared powdered doughnuts. Spring evenings, when he, Erwin and Hanji came out of the movie theater with laughter tied to their buckets of popcorn. Spring season with its flowers and birds, and the blissful feeling of sensation on too-pale skin.

There is also summer.

Green and vibrant grass. Tank tops and shorts and picnics. A ten-year-old tasting American soil for the very first time while standing under his mother’s delicate umbrella. A promise of a brighter future, a pat on the head, loving smiles.

And then there’s autumn in Ashbury Lane. Death, ghosts, and entities Levi can’t possibly put a name or face to.

Four seasons and an entire lifetime aptly decide to take residence in Levi’s mind, keeping him from thinking on the now. The white noise grows louder and louder, electricity lightening up his fingertips until they burn and ache, until his lungs constrict and keep him from breathing.

It isn’t fair.

He grew up feeling too much, and now he’s left here, feeling nothing but ice on his fingers and blood on his hands: two substances he will never be able to wash out no matter how hard he tries.

Levi tries to reclaim his hold when everything begins to spiral out of control. Nothing makes sense but he needs a heading, needs to find a stepping stone that will allow him to climb above this chaos.

Levi digs in his fingers.

He claws away his mind, tearing sinew and spilling gore around the perfect ground around him. He claws and he claws, enraged at the nothingness, wrathful of the unfairness, but he keeps getting pulled back.

The bubble becomes a warzone where he pulls and pushes against himself, against his impulses and hungers, against the darkness that has lingered in the deepest recesses of his mind since he first set fire to his father’s briefcase.

Levi struggles to free himself of the hold, to climb his way out of the hole using only his hands, but a sting makes him blink.

A slap to the cheek leaves him reeling, blinking dumbly when everything returns to normal.

Eren is standing in front of him, towering well over his head. His muted amber eyes are wide, but are otherwise devoid of any obvious emotion. He holds himself with a sense of importance, of sickly satisfaction, but there is also hesitance.

Levi blinks again, assimilating the atmosphere around him.

He’s shivering and his skin his burning, but the whiteness he sees tells him that he’s outside. No longer sitting on his stool, Levi sees that he’s back in the forest, without so much as a jacket.

Lungs burning and body aching, Levi imagines the beginning of hypothermia.

He brings a hand up to his face, to pinch his nose in disoriented frustration, only to find that the sensation of soaked fingers hadn’t just been a trick of the mind. 

Levi stares at his hand, at the dark red that runs between his fingers, down his palms, and into the sleeve of his sweater.

Levi drops his eyes but doesn’t panic when he finds himself straddling a freshly dug up corpse.

He does, however, dry-heave at the viscera over his lap. He presses the back of his hand to his mouth without thinking, only to hack up whatever is in his stomach. He coughs, retches, but nothing comes out.

Feeling cold and sick, Levi isn’t the slightest bit perturbed that, despite the overwhelming disgust, he isn’t entirely upset about what he’s done, not when he realizes the root of his actions.

Rather than clawing himself out of the hole, Levi had simply been clawing out the man’s eyes. Eyes that Levi has set neatly over the snow, cleansing them of blood and fluids. Eyes that, even death, shine a gorgeous sea green.

It isn’t fair.

Because if Eren can’t have those eyes, nobody else can.

•••

Hot water beats down on Levi’s shoulders as he sits on the bath’s floor, knees to his chest.

The static from before has faded along with the afternoon sun, abandoning him to a proverbial silence similar to the dead of night. The snow’s cold clings to his joints, freezing them and locking him in place, granting him nowhere to run.

He doesn’t want to think. Thinking is dangerous. Accepting what he has done would be the cataclysm that initiates his ultimate destruction.

“Your skin is red,” Eren whispers, mindful not to startle him. He’s sitting on the toilet, twiddling his thumbs and staring thoughtfully at Levi before turning towards the wall. “Why do you always do that?”

Digging his fingernails into the soft skin of his calves, Levi coils himself tighter. He’s desperate to run away from the hopelessness in his chest.

“Therapeutic,” he answers bitterly.

“Erwin once told me that pain was easier to handle when it’s physical.” Eren scratches at his chin. “Using pain to cancel out pain is kind of counterproductive, yeah?”

“I’m not in pain.”

“Then—”

“I’m cold,” Levi clarifies.

And that’s it. There is no other reason as to why he’s curled in here.

The reason why he refuses to linger on the eyeballs sitting idly on a glass bowl on his kitchen counter is strictly because he doesn’t feel anything towards them. There isn’t an ounce of remorse in him.

Not knowing how he was able to move through a frosted forest without realizing it, how he unburied a body and dug his fingers into frigid eye sockets. These are things that don’t faze him and what he fears is finding a reason that says he doesn’t _have_ to be fazed by it. What scares Levi is the absence of any sort of feeling or emotion. The blankness. Not the darkness, but a blurry white that clouds the grizzly scene.

“That’s one way to put it,” Eren says. He sucks in a breath, but Levi never hears him exhale. “Not entirely accurate, though.”

Rivulets of water flow from the ends of his hair and into his eyes, making them sting. He licks his lips. Levi sniffs, and then curses when the hot water burns the inside of his nose.

Eren chuckles. “You did that for me,” he says, and has the gall to sound awed by the atrocity. “I’ve been around for so long and nobody has ever done anything like this before. Not for me, anyways.”

“Stop acting like I got you a goddamned pair of diamond rings or some shit,” Levi says, finally lifting his head from his knees to glare at him.

Standing up from the toilet, Eren walks over to the side of Levi’s tub and sits on its ledge. He holds his hand underneath the spray of water, before touching his knuckles to Levi’s cheek. “It’s the thought that counts.” His smile is tender.

Levi scoffs. “Not when I did it involuntarily.”

“Actually, that’s even sweeter.” Eren shrugs, hooking his fingers underneath Levi’s jaw and tilting his face upward. “It just means that I’m on your mind, even when you’re unaware of it.”

The pelting of hot water on his face is bothersome, but Levi doesn’t look away.

“This is wrong,” he says.

He blinks up when Eren moves over him, stepping into the tub, fully clothed and uncaring of getting soaked to the bone. Levi watches him get down on his knees, straddling his lap much like he had done earlier today in the living room.

With a hand on either side of Levi’s head, Eren brings their foreheads together with a soft chuckle. “Never said otherwise.”

Whether he wants to or not, Levi’s mind begins to race as fast as his beating heart when Eren pushes their mouths together.

“Wait,” he says, pushing Eren away. But he doesn’t know what to say next. His thought process abruptly stops, stalling him. All that is left is the remnant of Eren enjoying something that is morally frowned upon, and that’s putting it simply.

“No,” Eren whispers, leaning in. “No waiting.” He brushes his lips against Levi’s, and he finds them to be strangely warm. “You’re having me tonight, however you want.”

Were it any other time, Levi would have been able to push Eren away, but as it is, his frustration is massive enough to reel him. By all means, he’s sitting in a bathtub, naked, and Eren is over him.

“Eyeballs,” Levi tries, desperate for something that will turn him off. “I killed him.”

Eren nips at Levi’s lower lip, taking it into his mouth and giving it a powerful suck. “How’d that feel?” The question is a distraction, all of Eren’s attention set on whatever bit of skin he’s currently kissing.

“Like nothing,” he says, putting it in the simplest fashion. “I didn’t feel a thing.”

Stopping his advance, Eren straightens up again, looking Levi in the eye. A hint of sereness settles on his face, gentle understanding. He runs his hands through Levi’s hair, pushing back the wet locks.

“A horse is easier to train when broken.”

Any oncoming protest is dispelled by Levi’s rough kiss.

•••

The sexual history between Levi and Eren is the least complicated thing in their lives. Eren did his messing around during high school, and Levi had his fair share of bedfellows throughout his lifetime. Both had been simple about it. Dinner, movie, sex - wash, rinse and repeat. But like chemical reactions, things became explosive the moment they came together.

Sex in the back of his car had been the most adventurous thing Levi had ever done, even throughout his years with Erwin.

He had written it off to Eren being young and playful, stealing inappropriate touches in the most unfortunate of places. Footsie at a restaurant, groping in the movie theater, intense kissing in the park. In fact, Levi recalls that one time he and Eren visited Carla right after graduation. They spent the night in Eren’s old bed, trying to be quiet while they went down on each other.

Things eventually escalated, Eren claiming that they had to ‘get with the program on modern day couple things’. Vibrators and cock rings gave way to leather cuffs and blindfolds. For all the uncontained energy in him, Eren loved being restrained and deprived of the pleasure only Levi could give him. He hungered for the rules and the commands, as well as the punishment for deliberate disobedience.

At first, Levi had been insecure, and still is. He wasn’t meant to give orders, despite the satisfaction that comes with being in control.

An agreement was eventually reached, and it was smooth sailing from there on out. Communication had been the key they needed. Sometimes, they did it Eren’s way. Other times, like now, they do it the old fashioned way.

“Get over here, old man,” Eren says with a grin capable of bringing empires to their knees. 

He _is_ an old man, and a sentimental one at that.

Seeing a beautifully naked Eren laying down on his bed always made his heart skip beats. 

Miles of unblemished skin stand out against the pale blue of his sheets, inviting him to taste. Dark hair fanned out over the pillow, asking to be combed with his fingers. He’s stunning, from the rosy cheeks, the brilliant smile, to the semi-erect cock between his legs. Ghost or not, this image of Eren is perfect, right down to the crooked toe on his left foot.

Still, Levi wishes he had a blindfold. He doesn’t want to look into off-colored eyes.

Setting his towel over a chair, Levi does his best to ignore the watery footprints he’s left behind.

Refusing to think, Levi climbs onto the bed without much ceremony, letting himself admire the supple body spread out underneath him as he goes. With knees on either side of Eren’s hips, and hands by his shoulders, Levi leans down to press a kiss to the tip of Eren’s nose.

“Is this okay?” Eren says, and there’s concern in his tone, even if he’s still smiling.

_Don’t think._

Levi nods, leaving behind a trail of kisses from Eren’s nose, his cheeks, and finally his mouth. His skin is cool, but not ice cold. It’s enough to grant him the illusion of life.

“I keep thinking I’m about to commit necrophilia,” Levi says, grimacing.

Eren hums a thoughtful note, and Levi sighs when he feels his hands trailing down his chest. “Pretend it’s a dream. Or, I don’t know. Maybe pretend you’re humping the mattress.”

Levi snorts. His reply comes in the form of a bite to the column of Eren’s neck, which makes him gasp. He smells of fresh laundry, and Levi appreciates it. Swabbing his tongue over the bite, Levi latches onto it again, sucking until it bruises.

He marks as far as he can reach. Eren’s neck, shoulders, along his collarbones. He comes up to playfully bite his chin, before licking open his mouth for a breathtaking kiss.

Eren is the one to pull away, pressing a hand to his mouth as he coyly averts his eyes. Levi pulls the hand away, claiming yet another kiss. For this one, he presses closer. Levi lures Eren’s tongue into his mouth, twirling it and sucking on it as he pulls away with an obscene sound.

Eren’s moan is shaky, his hands palming at Levi’s shoulder before clinging to the back of his neck and bringing him down for a brief peck on the lips. “Fuck,” he whimpers out, and bites his own lip. “Fuck, I forgot how good you were at this.”

Shifting his weight so that he’s leaning on his left arm, Levi runs his right hand down Eren’s chest. He hums appreciatively, admiring the dips and slopes of muscle and skin, until he comes to a stop at Eren’s navel. Here, he softly scratches at his wiry hair, and Eren giggles.

Levi mentally pats himself on the back for remembering Eren’s tickle spot. There should also be one behind his left knee.

“Do you have any lube?” Eren says, answering Levi’s touches with his own.

Cool fingers play in Levi’s hair, softly tugging at it, before gliding behind his ear. A thumb and forefinger pinch Levi’s earlobe, rubbing at it, while a pinky caresses the tender skin behind it.

“No,” Levi says. He shuts his eyes and leans into the touch. Deny as he may, he’s starved for it. In this moment, he would give Eren the world if he asked for it. “Not tonight.”

Eren flips them over, and Levi breathes out with pleasure, his cock jerks.

“Blowjobs?” he asks, returning the trail of kisses Levi has left on him.

Levi shakes his head, and tangles his fingers in Eren’s hair when he moves down kiss his nipples. “I’d rather not.” He bites his tongue to hold back a moan when Eren sucks one into his mouth.

To prove a point, Eren circles his tongue around the nub. The sensation between wet and cold leave Levi slackjawed, his chest quivering and fingers twitching.

“What, then?”

Levi pulls Eren up by his hair, and flips them over again. Eren doesn’t look too happy, going as far as baring his teeth, but the display only spurs Levi on. He isn’t above enjoying a little violence, going as far as risking a kiss.

“If you really want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to work for it,” Levi murmurs, letting go of Eren’s hair and presenting his hand.

Not wasting any time, Eren sets to licking his palm. “I intend to,” he says, pulling a finger into his mouth and giving it a suck. He lightly scrapes his teeth against it when it slips out.

Eren’s words curl around him like a promise, and Levi toes the line between fear and excitement.

When he deems his hand wet enough, Levi pushes himself up until he’s kneeling between Eren’s legs. He takes hold of Eren’s cock, hard and heavy, and gives it a tentative stroke. 

He doesn’t want to talk anymore. Darker thoughts are catching up to him. The wet coldness on his hand isn’t triggered by giving a ghost a handjob, but something else. Rather than beads of precome, his mind’s eye offers him the vision of blood. He killed with these hands, what right does he have to pleasure with them?

“Levi,” Eren says, sitting up. He touches his face, bringing him in for a kiss. “It’s okay,” he says, overlaying his own hand over Levi’s. He guides him, moving slowly and squeezing just enough to make Eren sigh. “You can’t hurt me.”

Levi shakes his head, his hand only moved by Eren’s own. Threads of him are falling away, and he feels catatonic despite being able to function. Not even the soft noises that Eren makes are enough to shake him out of the phantom stupor.

“Look at me,” Eren says, and Levi pointedly looks away. “Don’t do this, please.” But he doesn’t stop the movement of his hand. “Levi…”

He can call him as many times as he pleases, Levi won’t willingly look into his eyes. 

He tightens his hold on Eren’s cock, pressing his thumb to the slit before moving back down again.

By this point, Levi isn’t even hard, but he won’t stop. For just a moment longer, he can pretend that nothing is wrong with this. He can pretend that he and Eren are having another average night to themselves.

The thought, however, is dispelled the moment Eren’s fingers dig into Levi’s jaw, harshly turning his head to face him. “Look at me,” he says, this time leaving no room for argument. 

Levi is unnerved by the paleness of his eyes, but the contortion of wild lust on Eren’s face robs him of breath. He looks beautiful, unearthly, frightening, and Levi can’t fight the magnetism. Heat licks at his gut, wanton desire to wrap himself around Eren’s entire body.

They hold each other’s gaze, and Levi is the first to look away when Eren lets go of his jaw in order to grip at his cock. 

Levi’s back arches without his permission, body shaking hard enough to alarm him. It’s been too long. He had almost forgotten how exquisite it is to be touched by someone other than himself. 

Eren’s hand shows no mercy, pumping and tugging with more force than necessary, but damn if Levi is going to complain. A little bit of pain never killed anyone, even though the chafe of a dry palm is slightly annoying.

“F-Fuck,” Levi grits out, letting go of Eren’s erection in favor of grabbing his hips. He pulls Eren closer, almost making him lose his balance. “Let me…” he starts, but doesn’t finish.

Compulsion for cleanliness aside, Levi spits on his hand while shifting on the mattress just enough to bring their cocks together. He hisses at the cool contact against his hot skin, his hair standing on end, but the sensation is oddly unforgettable.

Clumsily, Levi begins stroking the both of them in one hand.

Eren’s fingers dig into the mattress as he fucks Levi’s hand, head tipped back as he calls out a litany of nonsense. His back is arched, and sweat glistens along the expanse of his chest.

So different, but still gorgeous, still Eren.

“Tighter,” he whimpers, his heels looking for any kind of purchase. “Yes, squeeze me tighter. As if I’m fucking you… your ass… your mouth… anything, just - fuck, Levi, _yes!_ ”

An embarrassing cry slips past Levi’s mouth, but he doubts Eren hears him through his own feverish ranting.

He, too, humps his own fist, suddenly very desperate for more. 

In the euphoria of it he wonders why he even questioned Eren to begin with. He’s more than willing to hang his sanity on a nail if it means having this. The friction, the amazing feeling of Eren’s skin catching and sliding against each others’. Levi wants to live in an eternal state where all that matters is Eren, naked and wanton and desperate for what only Levi can give him.

The act is madness in itself.

Eren’s laughter grabs his attention.

“Think about how amazing this would be,” he says, interrupted by his own grunts and chuckles. “If you let go of all that baggage?”

Levi drives his fist faster, not wanting to hear it.

“J-Just think.” Eren’s body jerks as he moans loudly, and bites down on his bottom lip to suppress an ecstatic grin. “Think how fucking good this would feel if you fucked me without restraint, huh?” Eren growls out a grunt.

Thrown off, Levi loses his grip before reclaiming it. He can see Eren swell in his grasp, and his mouth waters at the sight.

“No going out of the way to keep it all buried…” Eren mumbles. “God, I’m so close…!”

Licking his lips, Levi uses both of this hands now, creating a tunnel for them to fuck. He tightens his hold just enough for the two of them to move freely, however awkward their positions are.

Sweat beads along his back and temples, and his legs start growing sore from holding the position, but he’s too enraptured by it to move.

His hands get swatted away, and he watches as Eren grabs his own cock, fist flying over it as he chokes back sobs and wrecked moans.

Levi mirrors him.

He wastes no time on playing with himself, feeling too tired to do anything other than get himself off as quickly possible. He focuses on his tip, giving it gentle squeezes before wrapping his hand around himself and tugging.

Eren’s garbled shout makes him look up in time to see him twisting on the bed, back coming clean off as he jacks himself to the point of orgasm and beyond. Thick stains of come splatter along his stomach, and Levi watches him tremble and whimper through it.

It’s enough to get Levi over the edge - that gentle and vulnerable look that always settles on Eren’s face when he comes. His lips turn upward just a fraction, and his eyes go soft with childish adoration. He chuckles, soft and quiet, as he shyly touches his chest.

Levi comes with a grunt. No fireworks, no punch to the gut. Satisfying, of course, but nothing spectacular.

He does gasp when Eren reaches up for him, and unceremoniously shoves him down on the bed.

Somethings really don’t change, and Eren’s tendency for post-coital cuddling is one of them.

Levi remains perfectly still, spread out on the mattress and waiting for his heartbeat to calm down. Beside him, Eren is curling onto his side. He has a leg resting over Levi’s, and an arm thrown over his stomach, regardless of the evidence of his release. Airy kisses are pressed to Levi’s sweaty skin.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Eren says, humor tinting his words. “Could have been better if you’d stopped thinking about every little thing.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Levi says, staring at the dark ceiling. Involuntarily, he begins to comb Eren’s hair, and makes note that he should be getting a haircut soon. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“No, because you would have tied me down and taken me, if you weren’t.” Eren presses his fingertips to the pulse on Levi’s neck. Presses a kiss to his cheek. “You wouldn’t have been able to keep yourself in check.”

Levi shuts his eyes to refrain from rolling them. He’s not an animal; he has plenty of self restraint.

“If you weren’t thinking,” Eren continues, his whispering becoming sweet. “You wouldn’t have been so reluctant to look me in the eye.” He smiles. “You wouldn’t have been worrying about carving my eyes out at any given moment.”

By all means, the words should make him stop what he’s doing, but they don’t. Levi continues combing Eren’s hair, basking in the afterglow.

“I think it would have excited you,” Eren says, and although Levi can’t see him, he feels his breath over his mouth.

Levi swallows around the knot in his throat.

_Don’t think._

Because if he does, he won’t like what he finds.

“How would you know that?” he asks against his better judgment, humming when Eren’s fingers come up to toy with the drying come over his thighs.

Eren chuckles; a short, dark, and twisted little sound. “Because _I_ would have definitely gotten my rocks off if you defiled me.”

“You’re fucked up,” Levi says, blunt.

“Says the one acting completely cool about the situation.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Don’t,” Eren says, angling Levi’s head towards him. He opens his eyes. “Get it all out, Levi. Rant if you have to. Fuck it out in the most violent way possible… do _something_ , but don’t bury it. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of what’s going on.”

“I do. I just think that denying what you are is useless.”

Levi narrows his eyes. “What am I, then?”

Stealing a kiss, Eren rests their forehead together. “The same as me.”

The satisfied way in which Eren says it is unnerving, like he’s mastered a board and is now sure that he’s going to win.

“And what are you?” Levi says, and is surprise by the hushed quality of his words.

Eren dabs the tips of their noses together, and sighs out a smile that accompanies a single word. “Damned.”


	10. Succor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, before anybody gets on my case (and in case there's anyone who hasn't read the warning on the very first chapter) this chapter is heavy on the levi/erwin. Like, smut heavy. Ye be warned. Now that that's out of the way, there's two things I wanna tell you guys.
> 
> First, [ravner](http://ravner.tumblr.com) posted [this gorgeous piece](http://ravner.tumblr.com/post/86709220632/work-in-progress-ive-had-this-in-my-head-since) over at tumblr and you guys should go and stare in awe. And maybe some lust because damn son.
> 
> Second, [kiokushitaka](http://kiokushitaka.tumblr.com) and I joined forces to mod [EruRiRen Week](http://erurirenweek.tumblr.com) over at tumblr! Be sure to drop by if you haven't already.
> 
> And okay, I totally meant three things but whatever. Updates will be rather slow from here on out since I start working on Monday so I want to apologize in advanced. Hopefully the delays won't be too drastic.
> 
> That's it, enough rambling. Enjoy the chapter and the weekend!

“What happened afterwards?” Petra says, unperturbed by Levi’s graphic descriptions.

He counts the seconds, tapping out each tick and tock as all the clocks come together in disjointed harmony. The one above the doors, the one on Petra’s wrist, the timer in the kitchens, and the antique in the warden’s offices.

Tick-tock-tick-tick-tick.

“Can’t say I remember,” he says, combing his fingers through Eren’s long hair. “Everything blurred together after that. Eventually I got in the car and drove over to Erwin’s, stayed with him and Mike for a month. Probably longer.”

Petra, now leaning against the table, crosses her arms. She looks off in the direction of the armored doors and sniffs. “The FBI never found a body on your property or in the surrounding area.” Angling her head, she gives Levi a stern stare. “This can go two ways.”

“Either I lied about the location,” Levi says, returning the stare. “Or I’m crazy and no one really died.”

“I’d much rather believe that last one.”

“I know you would.”

“What did you do with the bodies?”

Letting go of Eren’s hair, Levi traces his knuckles along Eren’s cheekbone. Milky eyes look up at him, brimming with mischievous light.

“No one ate them, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Levi says. “I was joking about the blood tea. At least, I never _intentionally_ took any with my tea. Eren may have slipped some in at one point or another.”

Pushing away from the table, Petra begins to pace the room, the click of her heels joining the symphony. “There are fifteen families asking for closure, Levi. It’s our job to give them a good night’s sleep.”

The true nature of this retelling finally exposed, Levi wonders if Petra’s claim to try and get him out has any truth to it. This isn’t a friendly visit, these are the authorities trying to piece together the last bits of the puzzle.

Levi would give it to them, if it means guaranteeing him a quicker pass to the gas chamber.

“Have they tried praying for comfort?” he says, mimicking the most frequent of options anyone would tell him.

“He won’t listen wherever _They_ are concerned,” Eren says with a laugh. He places his hands over his stomach, and lightly leans into Levi’s touch.

Levi’s hand stops briefly, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips.

_Ah._

_More than one._

“I’ve yet to have my last meal,” Levi says, looking at Petra. “Would you mind?”

Stony faced, Petra shakes her head. “What would you like? I’ll place your request.”

“Just tea,” he says, licking his lips. “My throat is dry from all the talking.” The truth, really. After months of doing a minimal amount of talking, his throat is scratchy from the exercise it is getting. “Black.”

“Are you sure?” Her eyebrows pinch. “Don’t you want anything to eat?”

There are a handful of things he would like to eat, but nothing the government can give him. He would like to have his mother’s homemade confit de canard, none of the canned stuff. Along with it, a slice of Carla Jaeger’s apricot pie with a dollop of whipped cream. There is nothing like a mother’s cooking to offer comfort.

“Just tea.”

He watches her walk away, leaving the recorder behind.

“What did you do with the bodies?” he asks, softly patting his hand against Eren’s cheek.

“Unlike someone,” Eren says defensively, “I was trying to cover our tracks; save your skin. For being so cunning, you’re pretty dumb.”

Levi’s left eyelid begins to twitch. 

He shoves Eren off his lap and stands up. “I’m _dumb._ ”

“You practically left a trail of breadcrumbs,” he says, waving a hand.

“It would have been more suspicious if I had just stopped submitting my reports.”

“Maybe call in sick? I don’t fucking know. _Something._ Getting busted because they tracked the IP addresses is the lamest way to get caught.”

Levi leans against the iron bars of the cell and sighs. “My apologies for being responsible,” he says sarcastically.

Eren, still sitting on the cot, looks Levi over with a hint of concentration. There’s a deadness to his eyes. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and his jaw continuously clenches and unclenches. He’s angry, but he’s also thinking very hard. 

“You wanted to get caught.”

“Ding, ding, ding.”

Eren scoffs, slapping his knee with annoyance. “I went out on a limb to keep you safe and this is what you do? That’s the millionth time you decide to act like an ungrateful asshole.”

“I’m tired, Eren.”

“Then take a fucking vacation. You are aware this is a break you’re not coming back from, right?” Leaning forward, Eren rests his elbows on his knees.

No one says a thing for the longest time, only the hum of the air conditioner and the ticking clocks disrupt the charged silence. Levi embraces the noisy quiet, his hands pinned under his arms as he rests his head against the bars and shuts his eyes.

Getting caught had been easy. All he had to do was email Hanji his reports from wherever he was along the east coast. One victim, one report. Hanji is a smart cookie, of course she would catch on.

The final nail in his coffin had been the one in his own backyard.

“You’re planning something,” Eren says, voice hushed. There’s something buried in his words, either awe or dread.

For all the self-control he possesses, Levi is unable to hide his smile.

Eren squints, grasping at invisible straws. “You sly dog.”

“I forgive you for calling me dumb.” Levi walks away from the bars to stand in front of Eren. Fingers to Eren’s chin, his tips his face upward. “Your lack of faith in me is appalling.”

“Can you blame me?”

The two of them move at once, meeting half way for a kiss. Just a simple seal of lips.

“What do you have in mind?” Eren asks, breathing against Levi’s mouth as he moves in for another kiss.

The armored doors groan when opened, and Levi takes it as his cue to let himself move away. “Whatever it is,” he says, and allows his thumb to caress Eren’s bottom lip. “ _They_ will never see it coming.”

Petra’s heels are loud in the near desolate cellblock.

Eren’s pale eyes are hard and his face is perfectly neutral.

Levi offers him yet another smile.

Petra’s footsteps stop in front of the cell door, and Levi turns towards her with a grateful nod. “Thank you,” he says, and waits for her to open the metal compartment on the door.

She places the saucer on the tray and slides it in. Along with the mug are two chocolate chip cookies.

“I know you didn’t want anything to eat, but Erd made those yesterday. Figured you might like to try them.”

The cookies are warm and soft, as if she heated them up before bringing them to him. They taste exquisite.

Levi takes his last meal and sits on his cot, offering Eren his second cookie, who rejects it with a troubled frown.

Good.

Let him think. 

Let him wonder where he went wrong, and how he got to this point over the course of several months. Let him desperately try to figure out what it is that Levi means. Let Eren suffer the muffled torture of thought just like he had.

Clearing her throat, Petra retakes her earlier spot on the chair. After running a hand through her hair, she nods. “Whenever you’re ready to continue,” she says.

Fingers stained with melted chocolate, Levi sucks them clean before taking hold of the mug. The tea tastes bitter, not as hot as he would like, but it’s drinkable.

Beside him, Eren is staring at the ground.

Levi hums. “It was Valentine’s weekend when I finally went back to the house.”

•••

Erwin cuts the engine when they arrive at the end of the Lane.

It’s odd to see him behind the wheel of Levi’s small car, being used to associating Erwin to pickups and oversized convertibles.

His grip on the steering wheel loosens and tightens before letting his hands fall to his lap.

The world outside the car windows is perfectly calm in the last rays of evening sunlight. Snow has melted, although the trees are still bare and the earth icy. Thick clouds are clinging to a gray sky, promising a stormy night if the rumbling of thunder in the distance is anything to go by.

“I’ll get the place set,” Erwin says, keeping his sight set on the darkening porch.

“You won’t know if it’s there or not,” Levi counters. He, too, is watching the house. There is no movement. “If you trap it inside, we would have achieved nothing.”

Unclasping his seatbelt, Erwin shifts and leans forward, resting his weight on the steering wheel. “Now it’s _it?_ ” He gives Levi a brief glance. “Last chance to tell me before I ask Eren.”

Levi doesn’t reply because he knows that thing won’t rat him out. He’s had enough time to think on it, but he’s yet to decide what he will ultimately do. Right now, all he wants is to regain control of the situation, clean the house until he’s able to move out.

“Do whatever you’re going to do and get it over with,” Levi says.

Neither moves until it begins to rain.

“Mike and I discussed this,” Erwin says, and exhales loudly as he straightens up against the seat. “I want you to understand that we both agreed.”

Levi doesn’t move, but he does blink. “About?”

“You need to get your mind off this, if only for a little while.”

The way he says it, the slight curl of his voice is not quite an invitation. It’s an order, but one Levi is welcome to reject. “Do I look like I want to have sex?”

“This isn’t about sex and you know it.”

“Still requires me to be naked and you on top of me. I’m trying to regain control of the situation, not candidly give away what little bit I have left.”

Erwin licks his lips and shakes his head. “To take control requires confidence, and confidence requires the feeling of safety.”

Levi scoffs. “Right, so you want to wrap me up in your big meaty claws so I can feel safe. Therefore, I can wake up fucked-out, rejuvenated, and ready to face the thing living under my bed.” He isn’t even trying to be sarcastic, too aggravated to manage doing so. “True love breaking spells is an overused trope, let’s use BDSM instead.”

“It was a suggestion,” Erwin says, perfectly calm and smiling softly.

“No, there’s no such thing as suggestions with you. You brought it up with Mike, which probably means you have a stash of leather in the trunk.”

Erwin opens the car door, and taking the key with him, he steps outside and slams it shut.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Levi calls out towards the back seat, watching Erwin through the windows flecked with raindrops.

Erwin uses the keys to open the trunk. When he closes it, he’s carrying a black duffle bag Levi knows is filled with bottles of rock salt.

“Stay put,” he says on the other side of the window and Levi answers by flipping him off.

Bag slung over his shoulder and jogging his way up to the porch, Erwin shakes off the water out of his hair like some dog. He knocks on the door, waits, before opening it without any trouble.

Levi takes in a steady breath when he loses sight of him, but stays in the car.

Seconds stretch out until the kitchen light flickers on, followed by the one on the porch. Levi sees Erwin’s silhouette in the kitchen window as he lays down lines of salt along the windowsill.

Rain begins to fall harder, the thunder growing louder.

It’s difficult to see much of the house by now, the torrential rain making a curtain of gray between it and the car. Only faded squares of yellow penetrate the shifting fall.

Levi begins bouncing his knee.

For the past two weeks they have been trying to get in contact with the realtor without any luck, and Erwin has been considering hiring a new one. Family connections be damned. If it were up to Levi, he wouldn’t have come back, but as it is, Erwin paid for half of the property, so it’s only fair to at least try to live it until further notice. He can’t keep sharing the space between Erwin and Mike.

He rides out his life in waves of bravado, because running away will amount to nothing. Fearing the unknown is perfectly alright, rolling over and playing dead is not.

Another block of light breaks through, this one on the second floor. Most likely his bedroom.

The bedroom.

The same bedroom he and that thing played in.

Were it up to him, Levi would have gladly taken up Erwin’s offer. Surrendering to someone one trusts is an intoxicating practice, and maybe he does need that. Relating loss of control to something positive might be the excellent remedy for a good night’s sleep. But something else nags at him, something that insinuates how much of a bad idea that would be.

That thing would be furious.

The vibration of his phone makes him look down at his lap and see Erwin’s name pop up on the screen.

 _“Coast is clear,”_ he says, and Levi ends the call.

Raindrops feel like tiny, icy needles tearing at his face as he runs up to the porch, shivering in his jacket. The days are still cold, but not as frigid as they had been during December and January. 

Erwin opens the door, and Levi is careful to step over and not smear the line of salt underneath the front door.

The place is dusty.

It has also been rearranged.

An overwhelming feeling of displacement grips him, making Levi short of breath, but he composes himself before he can even exclaim.

The kitchen is now the living room, while the living room is now the kitchen. 

He wishes he could write it off as a trick of the light, or the way the furniture is arranged, but the size of both spaces are incorrect.

Stove, refrigerator, stools, blender, toaster - everything is pushed into a single corner. Yet, he knows that if he were to get a measuring tape, the area would be bigger by at least a foot.

On the other room, the television hangs where the refrigerator used to be, right next to the stairs that should be there but isn’t. The island is also missing. Couches are stacked up on top of each other, tables resting on their sides.

A pile of ash stands at the middle of the room, and when Levi tries to approach it, Erwin pulls him away.

He wants to say something, but nothing comes out. The two of them are speechless.

Levi just clings to Erwin’s sleeve.

There’s so much dirt, so much ash, so much mildew. The stench of weathered furniture is sickening.

“How did you get upstairs?” Levi says.

“I didn’t.”

Levi looks at him, clenching his jaw. “Something turned the upstairs light on.”

Erwin only nods. “I’ll burn it to the ground,” he says, not a hint of hesitation. “Say it was an accident, collect the insurance money.”

By all means, it’s a good idea as far as those go. Erwin would get his money back, and Levi can rent himself a small apartment. Wash their hands of this madness and carry on with their boring lives. The only problem, Levi realizes, is that that option has been there since the very beginning and time after time, they shut it down without a second thought. No real explanation as to why.

Now, however, Levi finds that there is a reason. Not that he can pinpoint it, but there _is_ a reason for it. And the more he thinks, the more he dislikes it. It’s as if he’s been denied his sight since the beginning, and for the first time, the invisible bandages around his own eyes have been removed.

Levi doesn’t want to leave.

He can’t walk out and leave Eren behind. If not him, who else is going to hold the boy’s hand? That broken little boy with eyes like starlight.

“Why not?”

Levi blinks up at Erwin, confused by his question. “Why not what?” His ears pop.

Erwin’s stare is calculated. His shoulders are tense. “We’re leaving, and that’s final.”

“Wait,” he tries, letting go of his sleeve. Levi walks towards the living room, now the kitchen, and slips his hands inside his jacket pockets. He casts a fleeting look around the place, feeling oddly at home for the very first time. “The place has been salted. Let’s see if it holds up, and then we’ll figure out what to do from there.”

“I’m not risking it.”

“Then get the hell out. I’m not stopping you.”

Erwin begins to pace, although his cool mask is still perfectly in place. “Don’t make me drag you out.”

“Erwin-”

“This place is nothing but a scar on this planet, Levi. If it already has a reputation then it means that you haven’t been the first.”

“Then I’ll make sure to be the last, but not until I find out what is going on.”

“You know me,” Erwin says, his voice dropping to a tone that is oddly dangerous. “Normally I am the first one to want to get to the bottom of things, but there is a limit, Levi.”

“I can’t leave Eren behind.” The words are out before he can think better of them. Apparently he’s in the business of not realizing what it is he says. “You know where I’m coming from.”

“In which case, you know where _I’m_ coming from,” Erwin says, stepping close enough to nearly touch him. “It’s him or you, and you know who I will choose.”

“Don’t do this,” Levi says, cursing the rasp of his voice, the way his tone shakes. “Erwin.”

“Let him go, Levi.”

“Don’t.”

“You’re tying him to a place where he doesn’t belong.”

“You’re saying this is my fault.”

“Basic understanding of how things work,” Erwin says, and the coolness in him is unnerving. “All echoes require a source, and you keep calling out for him.”

Levi steps away, suffocating before the heat of him. “He’s my husband.”

“He’s dead, and whatever came back isn’t him and you know it.”

Of course he knows that. He’s known that from the start, but as he told Eren once - it’s all the desperation of a grief stricken widow. Maybe if he acts long enough, he can cling to it, to the normalcy and the lie of a domestic life. Forget the violence and the anger, forget it all. Levi will try again and again to fix it.

This is the final thread of hope, and he can’t let go of it just yet.

“You created a tomb,” Erwin continues, this time impassive. “And you’ve buried yourself along with him.”

There isn’t a cell in him that can deny the fact.

That’s the thing about Erwin, he has the ability to find a point and exploit it, to crack Levi open and leave him bare and bleeding to a ledge close to death. With Erwin, the need for a mask is useless, because he’ll rip it off without even trying.

The benevolent puppeteer.

And Levi frequents his spectacles.

“Let me sleep in it,” Levi says, holding Erwin’s gaze. “Don’t interfere.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option at this point.”

“I’m not a child.”

“Then stop acting like one. Petulant, deceitful.”

Levi balls his fists, both from anger and truth. He wasn’t honest with Erwin about the source of the blood under his nails nearly two months ago. Nothing will ever get by him.

“Stop acting like some sort of god,” Levi says, closing the space between them once again.

Erwin doesn’t move when Levi cups his cheek. “I’m too wrathful to be a god. Far too selfish, too jealous.” He finally frowns. “Don’t change the subject.”

Untouchable, righteous.

“Didn’t God burn down entire cities? Consumed them with holy fire? I also heard He’s the jealous type. Doesn’t like sharing His glory.” His hand trails to Erwin’s neck, and then slides upwards to grab a fistful of his hair. “The resemblance is uncanny.”

Erwin doesn’t speak as he’s tugged down, and Levi can’t feel him breathing when their mouths are briefly pressed together.

“Choosing who stays and who goes,” Levi continues, gently biting his bottom lip. “Thinking you can destroy what’s beyond us in the name of sanctified love.” He chuckles, teasingly licking at Erwin’s tightly-shut lips. “You’re a whole different kind of monster, Erwin.”

“Yet, here you are. Have been for hell knows how long.”

Levi hums. “A bug attracted to the light.”

Erwin’s arms come around him, locking him in an unsurprisingly gentle embrace. A hand comes up to tangle in Levi’s hair, tugging softly as to angle his head for a more comfortable kiss.

“I thought we weren’t going to do this,” he says, and his breath is hot against Levi’s mouth.

In the end, Levi is opportunistic. “Mike gave us the green light.” The kiss he gives Erwin is brief. “Waste not.”

Soaked to the bone, the both of them are glad to rid themselves of their clothing. Organization be damned; the place is already a dump. They throw their layers into a heap in the far corner of the new living room because those, unlike them, can wait.

Levi is left standing in the middle of the wooden floor, rubbing his arms as Erwin moves the couches about. 

He watches him join their ends as if making a makeshift box, shielding them from sight. The rug, which is thankfully rolled up, gets spread inside the barriers. It wouldn’t do to roughhouse on a hardwood floor.

In the mean time, Levi takes the opportunity to appreciate the muscles along Erwin’s back. Broad shouldered, nicely built. He’s bigger than Eren, in every single aspect, and that’s something that tends to send a thrill racing through him. The thickness of his thighs bunch and flex as walks around, and the power he knows rests behind him hardens Levi’s cock.

Erwin turns to him, getting dust off his hands and offering a sideways smile.

Levi sighs, and with it goes the tension, the anxiety, and the confusion. Right now, it’s only Erwin; Erwin and the blistering heat he radiates with his presence alone.

Arms back around Levi, he lifts him up with ease, holding him in place as they kiss with the same amount of fervor as they always had. Not enough tongue, and too much teeth. Erwin is a biter, and Levi loves that; loves the bruises he leaves behind.

Wrapping his legs around Erwin’s hips, and confident that he won’t be dropped, Levi allows his hands to roam. He touches his face, the softness of his lashes and the plumpness of his slick mouth. Levi touches his shoulders, shoulder blades, his back, all the while keeping their mouths pressed together.

The world shifts, and Levi nearly starts until he realizes that he’s being put down on the rug.

“Are you sure?” Erwin says, taking Levi by the wrists and placing his hands above his head. This is always difficult, but the added concentration will only work in his favor. When Levi nods, Erwin kisses him between the eyes. “Don’t move.”

Levi shivers, but it might just be from being wet for too long.

Erwin looks massive when he looms above him, and Levi can feel his thighs quivering from want. The position may often be described as bland, but being able to see Erwin in all of his naked glory is amazing. Especially the sight of his cock, long and thick and nicely curved.

“Close your eyes.”

Swallowing hard, Levi obeys. Erwin won’t hurt him, and he won’t let anything else hurt him either.

He sucks in a breath when warm lips press against his toes, and make their way up his legs. They lavish attention on Levi’s thighs, his hips bones and lower stomach; kissing, nipping and licking every inch of pale skin. Erwin worships him with a prayer expressed only through touches, his bruises the only offerings Levi requires.

Erwin moves fast, the situation at hand not calling for any sort of foreplay. He presses a kiss to the juncture between Levi’s cock and scrotum, before come up and taking him into his mouth without so much a warning.

Levi gasps, and then refrains from making any other sort of noise. When Erwin takes control, not even his breathing is his to measure.

Noticing this, Erwin chuckles, and the vibration has Levi clenching his fists.

Almost lazily, he hollows his cheeks as he sucks up and off with a noisy pop, Levi’s damp cock bouncing towards his hipbone.

Always the messy one, Erwin takes him into his mouth, sucks, pulls out, and does it again and again. He delivers just enough to be pleasurable, but not enough to satisfy. He’s a brutal tease, even without trying to be so.

A large hand fondles Levi’s balls, softly rolling them over his palms and giving them a feather-light tug.

Levi can feel his hands move, bracing themselves on either side of his cock, pinning his thighs in place. He steels himself because he knows what’s coming. Erwin is adjusting his angle, finding a way to make this easier, and Levi knows, from experience, that Erwin knows full well how to approach this.

It starts with a lick to the bead of pre-come on his tip, and then lips around it, and that’s it. Levi’s mind pulls a blank as Erwin sinks down, taking him entirely into his mouth until his nose presses into the mess of wiry, dark hair. He swallows, holds still, before pulling off with enough suction to have Levi’s back come off the rug.

There is nothing he wants more than to open his eyes, but he has his orders. If he’s good, Erwin will reward him, and those are always worth it.

“Give me a second,” Erwin says, voice hoarse.

Levi can hear him walk away, and then the sound of a zipper. The son of a bitch whistles as he walks back.

“Grab your knees and hold them up.”

Heart beating unevenly, Levi hooks his hands under his knees and pulls them up and apart. Exposed and vulnerable, he feels a sense of humiliation take hold of him, but he deals with it. This is the whole point of it. He’s also too horny to back down.

Expecting it, Levi doesn’t react too loudly when Erwin drizzles lube along his thighs. He spreads it, rubbing until it warms on his skin, before pouring a more liberal amount. This spells the end of the rug, but Levi can’t be fucked when a finger tickles the rim of his hole.

“You can speak,” Erwin coos, taking his sweet-ass time. He only nudges far enough to expand the tight ring, but not enough to fully penetrate. “Let me hear your cute little voice.”

Levi groans out breathily, and damn the man for having the power to undo him with a single command.

“Keep it up,” he says, stopping only to drink in a much needed breath, “and I won’t last five minutes.”

Erwin chuckles, nuzzling his face against Levi’s lower abdomen. He mock bites him. “I’ll see myself forced to put a cock ring on you,” he says, beaming up at him. “Wouldn’t be too much of a bad idea. Your cock always looks nice when it swells, all rosy and slick.”

His finger finally pushes inside, and Levi bites his bottom lip. It doesn’t hurt, but it has been a while. The sensation is odd.

“You and your cock worship,” Levi grits out, clenching his knees so hard, he is certain he’s drawing blood. Still, he doesn’t move his legs.

Erwin keeps the side of his face resting over Levi’s stomach while he slowly prepares him. One finger, two, three, and by the time he’s reached the fourth, Levi is just a mess of panting and broken huffs. Drool gathers at the corners of his mouth, but there is nothing he can do about it. His legs are shaking, but he still refuses to let go.

“Such a good boy,” Erwin says when he removes his fingers. He smacks Levi’s thigh, which earns him a poorly controlled moan. “Look at me.”

Levi blinks open his eyes, and his sight is blurry due to how hard he was squeezing them shut. He searches for a brief moment, disoriented as to where he is, but Erwin is here, kneeling between his feet. He has a hand around his dick, loosely jacking it as he devours Levi through sight alone.

Arms and legs growing more tired, Levi desperately wiggles his hips in a silent request for mercy. The whole scenario is as bland as bland can be, and he’s shouldered much more severe scenes before, but it has been way too long. Normally, he would be the one ordering Eren around, not vice versa.

Erwin’s lips are parted as he breathes through his mouth, his free hand touching his own chest. He pinches and rubs his nipples, before pushing the hand downward to play with the area just behind his balls. His eyes flutter shut for just a moment, wide shoulders shaking before composing himself.

Levi considers it strange how he always relates those closest to him to forces of nature. It’s the only aspect of whimsy Levi has ever entertained. While Eren was a sweltering heat wave, Erwin is a tornado. Beautiful, powerful, and deadly. Stand close enough and one would be sucked in without mercy.

Levi holds his breath when Erwin shimmies forward on his knees, aligning his hard dick to his slick hole. Regardless of loving the feeling of being stuffed full, that initial burn and discomfort is not his favorite. Four fingers, even as big as Erwin’s, will never be enough.

It eases in, somewhat. That first push inside doesn’t feel as if his world is being split in half.

Nails digging into the back of his knee, Levi tries to loosen up. The tension needs to seep out if he expects for this to be enjoyable. He’s safe, he tells himself. He’s safe.

Erwin puts his hands on Levi’s hips, drags him downward inch by inch, carefully, until he’s fully embedded.

Unable to keep his pose, Levi lets his legs down with a groan. He’s getting too old for this kinky stuff. Once he gets feeling in them again, he’ll wrap them around Erwin’s waist. That tends to get him a fee pass, on occasion.

Verbal communication isn’t needed from this point on.

A hand wraps around Levi’s cock, giving it a firm stroke. All the while, Erwin is moving his hips, pressing deeper into him.

 _God,_ does Levi love it.

That feeling of completion, of being whole and full and satisfied. His limbs grow heavy with coiled up pleasure, and his gut twists for more. He wants more; for Erwin to pin him, take him, fuck him beyond all conscious thought.

“Move,” he rasps out, knowing that he isn’t ready for it still, but desperate enough to beg. “Fucking _move._ ”

Of course, Erwin doesn’t. At least, not the way Levi wants him to. He pulls out until only his cockhead is inside, before pushing in with the patience of a saint. A hand around the base of Levi’s dick, he makes sure to keep a healthy squeeze.

“I told you to hold your legs and you disobeyed,” he says, and his voice is liquid sex; a direct caress to the bottom of his spine. “Now, only speak if it’s my name, or any other expletive.”

Levi grits his teeth, but does as he’s told.

The oddness of the house fades into the background, only present as a faded mosquito bite. There’s only heat that engulfs him, a celestial light that licks the edges of his lust.

Erwin finally changes his position, laying on top of Levi. They’re close like this, their sweat and saliva mingling as they kiss messily, hurriedly. With newfound purchase, Erwin jerks his hips, each snap sending him deeper. All Levi can do is moan and cry out against his mouth.

It’s bliss. It’s absolute fucking bliss because Erwin is fucking into him without inhibitions. His balls slap against his ass, and he hides his face in Levi’s shoulder, biting down to keep himself from making embarrassing noises.

Levi doesn’t give a shit. He yells himself hoarse, squeezing down on the delightful intrusion that casts him into euphoria. His nails dig into Erwin’s shoulderblades, urging him to fuck harder and faster.

A hand lands on his chest as Erwin tries to balance himself, but both lube and sweat make him slip. Levi would have given him shit for getting lubricant anywhere else other than his nethers, if the impact of a hand to his throat hadn’t robbed him of his breath.

Only half focused on his actions, Erwin mumbles an apology, but he’s too attuned on where their bodies join to make anything of it. He humps Levi like a thoughtless animal, but Levi too has his attention on something else.

That brief impact, the fleeting moment that kept him from breathing.

Levi fumbles to grab Erwin’s wrist and when he tugs at it, he’s finally looked at with half-lidded eyes. He isn’t sure why it excited him, but it did, and he wants more.

A frown graces Erwin’s mouth when Levi places his hand around his throat. “What are you doing?” His words, although breathy, are surprisingly clear.

“Go ahead.”

Erwin is about to pull his hand away, all other movement paused, but Levi digs his nails into his forearms to keep him there.

“We’re not doing this.”

“I’m asking you to.”

“There’s a list of things we agreed never to do, Levi.”

“People change,” he says, and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to see the judgement in Erwin’s eyes. “And I’m giving you explicit permission to do so.”

Pinpointing when and why his opinion on this matter changed would be difficult, but that’s a deal for another time. Now, Levi wants it. Let Erwin replace the bruises left around his throat months ago.

A minimal amount of pressure is placed on the column of his throat, but it’s hesitant. 

“I can take it,” he grumbles, pushing himself onto Erwin’s cock to get him moving again. “Tighter.”

He hears Erwin sigh, moving just a slight bit.

“ _Erwin,_ ” Levi says, almost growling. “Hurry the fuck up and pound me.”

Dragging out and then pushing in, slow and measured, Erwin tightens his hold.

It isn’t enough, but Levi lets him. In just a few moments, he’ll fall back into his ruthless self, punishing Levi without pity. And in the throes of it, Erwin will take the reigns and pull them as he sees fit, or until Levi tells him to stop.

As expected, Erwin plays his role without missing a beat.

Already shut eyes squeeze tight when Erwin changes his angle, hitting him just right. Levi’s back protests, as do his legs, but he weathers it, he takes it because Erwin is drowning in his haze again.

Erwin’s controlled gasp comes with a harsh grip that cuts off Levi’s ability to breathe, and his mouth opens - not in protest - but to whimper from delight.

It never really hit Levi just how fucked up everything currently is. How fucked up _he_ is, getting off on the inability to breathe. The lightheadedness gives him the sensation of both flying and falling, of an intangible reality that dances around him. An escape.

But then Erwin lets go of him, and life rushes back into his lungs, and it is nothing short of ecstasy.

It is so overwhelming that Levi doesn’t even notice the wet heat on his stomach until Erwin chuckles, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

Levi lays still, trying to regulate his breathing while waiting for Erwin to finish. He remembers that there are no condoms involved, no way to get up to the bathroom, and he grimaces. Now that he’s come, and the world is shifting back to normal, Levi only feels disgust.

He winces when Erwin thrusts with enough force to drag him a few inches up the rug, his cock pulsing out hot come. Erwin doesn’t come saying his name, or much of anything, just a muted whine and a shiver.

“Old man,” Levi says, twisting his nose when Erwin pulls out. He really is going to need a new rug.

“The pot calling the kettle black.”

Levi snorts, and is mindful to move out of the way when Erwin flops onto his side. An arm wraps itself around Levi’s waist, pulling him close. Levi goes with it.

The man offers nothing but heat in a cold room.

A hint of stubble scratches the back of Levi’s ear as he spreads intimate kisses wherever he can reach. Erwin wraps Levi in a tight cocoon that offers only safety and false peace - but it calms him nonetheless.

Levi wants to come clean and tell him that he didn’t see the fireworks he was expecting, the same ones that tended to light up the night sky back in the day, but now isn’t the time. He doesn’t know why, but he chooses to keep any sort of wry remark to himself.

“The kitchen light is out,” he says instead, noticing the yawning darkness a few feet away from them.

Erwin doesn’t answer, because they both know he turned it on when first walking in.

They lay on the rug in silence, exchanging brief touches while calming their agitated breaths.

The last thing Levi remembers hearing is the pouring rain and rolling thunder outside the house, Erwin’s tired sigh, and a set of reprimanding words. “You have to let him go.”

Eyes closed, Levi’s fingers twitch involuntarily. 

“I don’t think I can.”


	11. Death Valley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather short chapter, but a chapter nonetheless. Eren is still MIA, but hopefully he'll be making a reappearance during the next chapter. Also, warning for a very brief implication of necrophilia and cannibalism.
> 
> And here's another [magnificent art piece](http://ravn.co.vu/post/88195134102/sketch-coloured-watercolours-are-hard-but-ill).
> 
> Have a nice week, folks!

_“Even monsters love. We love our mothers, but not our fathers, although we may have neither. We love the smell of fire, the ecstasy of chaos, the high of sacrilege. We love the broken, the disturbed, the lost. We offer them a home, a sanctuary where no other can reach in and touch, taint what is already black. We eat them. Others cannot nibble on the crumbs that are brushed off our tables, for it is our feast, and ours alone._

_“We love, Levi. And most importantly, we love_ you. _”_

Levi has a limited amount of fears, but the fear of open spaces is something he has developed fairly recently.

Distance is the first thing he sees.

Standing on a single spot, he spins on his heels. There is nothing for miles and miles, the illusion of a dropoff beyond what the eye can see, where earth meets sky.

Colors are what he feels.

The boiling red, the searing orange, the brown that offers the false hope of shade. Sand, rock, and nothing more.

Heat is what kills him.

Levi stands in the middle of the desert with not a soul for miles.

The same anxiety that comes from seeing no end wraps its freezing fingers around his spine, squeezing wickedly. But this time, Levi knows it’s just another dream. He’s fast asleep, on the living room floor, wrapped up in Erwin’s warmth.

That fact that this is his current reality doesn’t escape him.

He can’t breathe. 

The heat is too much to bear, forcing him to shed his jacket, and then his shirt, and then his shoes. He peels off his layers, and off comes his blistering skin, leaving behind muscle and bone that ooze blood which evaporates before it can even hit the ground. He can no longer feel his feet, certain that they’ve melted into the rock below the sand.

Strand after strand of hair becomes detached from his scalp, leaving a pool of black around his shapeless feet.

Eventually, his muscles unwind, untangling and separating like yarn from a spool.

All of these things, they fall away and become nothing. They don’t become one with the earth, they simply vanish as if Levi had never existed. His life nothing but a hiccup during a lifetime. An atom in an endless cosmos.

He is nothing, and yet, he is everything.

Born and destroyed within the belly of a collapsing star.

Now, he is a skeleton, brittle and worn, littered with tiny fractures invisible to the naked eye. A cage with nothing to hold inside, not even a heart. He is a cheap Halloween decoration, a useless scaffold.

 _And where do we put useless things?_ his mother’s darling voice whispers. _In the trash, of course. No use keeping it around, taking up space._

Levi starts walking across the desert.

He has no heading, no destination in mind, but he figures that the heat will kill him faster this way. Dehydration, exposure, exhaustion, something is bound to do him in. When it does, They will be waiting, lurking in the twilit corners of Levi’s shattered house.

Levi walks until he sees a pond. He doesn’t stop. He walks by a fountain, a pool, a bar, but nothing gets him to stop. Those may be real for all he cares, but he won’t drink from them. He doesn’t deserve a fresh drink of water.

He does stop at the sound of footfalls right behind him.

There is nothing to see for miles and miles, only the shades of red.

He walks, stops at the sound again, and turns around. This time he sees prints on the sand; his prints, but they aren’t footprints.

From his tracks part three different pairs. Two are similar to his, but one is different.

He wants to get closer, inspect them better, understand the anomaly. The sound of a growl stops him. He turns around only to see nothing. 

He begins retracing his steps, looking at the tracks to see how far back they go, how long he has been followed. He finds that his prints are those of hooves, leaving patterns of four in his wake. The other three are pawprints, but bigger. Bigger than bear prints. Much, much bigger.

Another growl has him looking over his shoulder, seeing nothing more than the same shades of red.

Levi stands up, keeps on walking, but now he doesn’t remember in which direction he was going. The tracks are all around him now, trapping him inside a circle he doesn’t dare to disturb.

More growls, a snap of jaws, a sniff. All of them vicious. All of them hellish. The stink is elemental, like the whif after striking a match.

The circle fades on all sides but one. When Levi tries walking in that direction, he’s snapped at, a heat hotter than that around him coming dangerously close to his face. He tries going to the left and to the right, but he gets the same feeling.

He’s being pushed in a direction he can’t stray from, so he walks the invisible line of the desert.

The air is eventually taken from his dried up lungs, oxygen but a myth in the barren lands. He’s still walking, but not living. He can’t think, breathe, swallow, clear his itchy throat. He can no longer walk but he’s moving, moving along that endless line, tailed by monsters he can’t see.

The arid expanse changes to something colder, darker, bathed in hues of gray. A constant twilight maddening to the senses, tearing at conciousness, undecided between day and night.

Levi drags himself over large boulders the color of cloudy skies, and slabs of rock blacker than night. There are holes filled with liquid, but it isn’t water. He doesn’t go near those, because he can see faces staring back at him.

The wind isn’t made of air, it is the howl of an animal embedded with deadly shards of ice.

This place, much like him, is nothing and everything.

Levi is standing in the in between, neither black or white, hot or cold, day or night. Everything and nothing is suspended in time. A godless place, reigned by the feeling of an endless fall.

Neither Heaven or Hell. Neither the feather of an angel or the belly of the beast.

It is the valley of the skeleton of a deceased creature, and it is not. This place is regret, grief, terror, desperation. The undead. Void.

It is a void.

Still, snapping at his ankles.

 _“I can think of an endless amount of songs written for this place,”_ the wind says, still in the piercing howl. _“Not a single one gets it right. A woman from Hierapolis came awfully close. She was butchered by a bishop, her song stolen by him. Rumor has it he ate her out… before chopping her into bites and actually eating her. They made him a saint.”_

Levi crawls across rocks, wanting nothing more than to get away from the crippling screech that mimics words.

What he finds are a pair of polished shoes. The hem of spotless pants. He looks up; a belt, the beginning if a smart jacket… and then nothing but a torso that goes up for miles and miles and miles. Past the nothing, past the Ether, past the world, time, space, reality itself. Omnipresent.

Nothing happens.

Time stretches on indefinitely, frozen through the epochs. Levi remains on the floor, and the entity remains in front of him.

“I can’t wake up,” Levi finds himself saying, surprised that he even has a voice to begin with.

He needs to wake up, shake off the violent trembling of his entire body. He needs to relieve himself of the heavy ball of bile in his stomach, one he knows he can only be rid of by vomiting. He needs to clean the cold sweat from a scorching forehead. He needs to regain feeling on his legs, stop the prickles of electricity underneath his skin.

_“They say dreams are peeks into other lives, making them very much real. Who’s to say that this isn’t your reality, while that warm, waking life is the dream you created to cope. Either way, you’re as good as dead.”_

Jaws snap near Levi’s hands, and he recoils. He curls himself into a tight ball that is slowly ripping him apart.

_“Curious things, these dream sequences. Always so archaic and symbolic, you can hardly crack what they mean. Mothers who laugh and say their kiddies went to bed on a full stomach. Husbands who say it’s just the stress of the day. Which one is it for you?”_

Levi can hear his name being called, muffled and diluted within the howling screech of the wind.

The ground under him begins to shake.

Eruptions of fumes line the unending horizon, worsening the stench.

Dozens of thoughts and images flash in his mind. Milky amber eyes, blue-green eyes, red eyes. Red eyes like the color of blood on snow. Red eyes like the blood that stains his hands.

_“What’s your stomach filled with, Levi?”_

Levi coughs, gags, desperate to lose the nausea twisting in his gut. He doesn’t want to throw up, fearing what he might see. The dogs continue to growl and snap at him, the added funk of their breath pushing him over the edge.

He dry heaves but nothing comes out.

_“Nothing.”_

A wicked burn ignites in Levi’s skull. He scrambles to put out flames that aren’t there, only to find something growing. He can’t see, much less imagine what it is, what they are, but he’s sprouting them from his head and it hurts more than anything he’s ever experienced. It melts away bone and skin, taking shape, turning him into a calcified creature in these wastelands.

_“Dreams are important. Remember your dreams, the faces, the voices. Remember the haunts, the crushing hopelessness that pulls your feet out from under the covers. Remember your dreams and maybe, just maybe, you can either let Them in, or lock Them out.”_

Suddenly, he’s standing on his two bony feet.

Levi stumbles until he grips the towering entity and begins to climb. Crisp fabric bunches and wrinkles in his hold, but it otherwise unscathed by the digging of his nails. The smell that wafts in front of his nose is that of clothing fresh from the wash, but it mixes with the putrid stink around him. Levi climbs and climbs, past fumes and ash clouds, and past the halo of unearthly haze.

He enters a void where he still climbs, no end or beginning in sight. But there are tiny windows all around him, and each one has a an equally tiny face peering in at him. None of them move, but Levi can hear their whispers in his head. Distorted little sing-songs that promise destruction and horrors beyond the one he currently traverses.

He keeps on climbing.

There is nothing here, no air around him, no space, not even void. The fabric of reality is nonexistent, and all that there’s left is him and the unending body that defies all rational and fantastical thought.

Levi doesn’t reach the end, but he does, however, feels himself awaken.

Eyes closed, he can feel the warmth of the bed beneath him, and the body heat of Erwin pressed to his side. On his back, Levi takes deep and even breaths. He tries his best to calm his nerves, to melt into the safety that is meant to be enveloping him, but there’s a weight on his chest he can’t attribute to Erwin’s arm.

Levi licks his lips, and swallows hard.

By the way the moonlight shines on his eyelids, he can tell that the curtains are open. His feet are cold, and he longs for the security of a thick blanket. Like this, naked, he’s too exposed, too vulnerable, too dirty.

Something is watching him, and it makes him feel disgusting.

Erwin grumbles something, but otherwise doesn’t move.

The pressure on his chest increases, the bed shifting minutely.

Levi’s muscles seize up with something akin to terror, disabling him from moving. He wants to thrash, shove off whatever is climbing over him, but he’s physically unable to do so. He’s being held down, voice and air taken from him, and all he can do is open his mouth in silent screams. He’s being crushed, but he’s finally able to open his eyes.

There’s no definitive form, no distinctive features to the thing above him, not immediately. A mass of black, a face melted away by hellfire, and bottomless eyes with pinpricks of red.

He tries to scream harder.

Levi sucks in air until his lungs hurt, but no sound comes out. He can’t grab Erwin despite trying to reach him; can’t jerk him awake. The thing doesn’t move, just lays over him, staring down.

Legs don’t move, arms don’t budge, no matter how hard he tries. He’s pinned, helpless, hopeless, and unable to breathe. He can’t rise above this, he can’t fight back, and all he can do is sob as fire violently eats his chest.

_“We love, Levi. And most importantly, we love the taste of you.”_

•••

Like flipping a switch, Levi blinks, bothered by the wake of movement he hadn’t been aware of. He blinks again, and tries moving his stiff fingers only to find himself holding fast to something – or someone.

Pitch black darkness eases off when he realizes that his eyes are indeed open, and that there is, in fact, someone in front of him. He panics again, feet kicking furiously in order to get away, hands tightening around whatever it is he’s grabbing. Stomach bottoming out, the fear wraps itself around his heart, squeezing to the point where tears begin to bead in the corner of his eyes.

But his hands are slapped away, wrestled and pinned to something soft.

Unable to move his arms, Levi kicks harder, until he hears his name being called over and over again by a voice he slowly begins to recognize.

He eventually stills, eyes wide and heart beating a frenzied tattoo against his chest when he puts a face and name to the voice. It’s just Erwin. _Erwin._

A sob stumbles out of Levi unbidden.

Erwin is panting, almost huffing, and he holds Levi down with an iron grip.

The world takes form again, consciousness slowly returning. He remembers that he’s laying on the floor. He remembers the sex, the distortion of the house, the entire situation and all Levi wants to do is run away from everything. He feels naked and vulnerable, mostly because he _is_ naked and vulnerable, and something is watching him. 

Something is watching and it doesn’t like what is being seen.

“... – to calm down. Levi? _Levi!_ Look at me, dammit.”

Levi swallows around the knot in his throat before finally looking at Erwin.

It hits him that the lights are actually on, even the one in the kitchen. The staircase is back where it should have been. The house is still warped in the shape of a surreal nightmare, but it’s tangible now, and it changed again while he was asleep. It does nothing to soothe his nerves.

“Sit up,” Erwin orders, giving Levi no room to protest.

A blanket is draped over his shoulders, and Erwin makes good in bundling him up. He moves his legs and pulls Levi between them, tugging him to his chest and wrapping him in his arms. By all means, Levi feels like a child being comforted after a nightmare, but he has no energy to complain.

With no means of knowing how long he slept, Levi reckons it hadn’t been much. He’s exhausted and his feet hurt, as if he’s just walked millions of miles. Shoulders heavy, stomach aching, and throat dry, Levi doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He has no idea what will make him better, or help him breathe easier.

Erwin rocks them back and forth, one of his hands idly caressing the grain of Levi’s undercut in a gesture that is meant to be tender, but it feels too similar like the fabric he just spent a century climbing up.

Curling into Erwin’s body heat, Levi brings up his knees and holds his head between his hands. He wants it all to be over, whatever it takes. He’ll do anything to make it all stop.

“Do you need something to drink?” Erwin says, wiping the sweat off Levi’s forehead with his hand. “We can leave if you want.” His voice sounds hoarse. 

Leaving sounds like a wonderful idea, but Levi rarely goes back on his word. He swore to weather this house until his breaking point, and that he will do, even if it kills him.

“Tea,” he manages to say, but otherwise clings to Erwin’s arm. For now, he’ll let himself be weak.

“I’ll make you some tea.”

It takes Levi several minutes to willingly let go of Erwin, and when he does so, he curls right back into a ball with the sheet tightly around him. 

He watches from the living room floor as Erwin moves the furniture as best he can to access the microwave, since the stove is most likely not connected to a gas line. For once, Levi doesn’t care how the tea is made, as long as he can get something warm in his stomach. Erwin moves with a grade of elegance that translates as forced calm, but Levi doesn’t bring it up. Only heaven knows what the hell he had been doing to merit Erwin holding him down.

Speaking of, Levi looks down at his hands. He clenches them. Everything had been hazy upon waking up, but if he’s not mistaking, his hands had been around Erwin’s neck. His grip had been strong enough to make Erwin manhandle him and pin him to the rug.

Levi wraps himself tighter.

The nightmare still lingers in the back of his mind, all of the smells, the sounds and the feelings. The terror is tangible. He still recalls the faces, and the sense of familiarity disturbs him. One would recall such twisted things, and he is sure he has never seen any of it. But a thought nags at him.

Tired beyond measure, Levi’s eyelids drift shut, but the sound of Erwin shuffling in the kitchen keeps him from drifting off.

He remains on the rug, soaked in cold sweat, eyes closed, and grieving. Levi grieves because he feels hopeless and alone. He feels forgotten, replaced, and he has no idea where those feelings are coming from.

In his mind’s eye he can see a lonely silhouette walking the dark walls.

Levi can see Eren’s shadow, broken and forlorn as he stands in the endless passage with nowhere else to go. The translucent image in hues of gray and blue taunts him, pulls at his heartstrings and pushes him to do the things he knows he must not do.

Stuck in a crossroads, Levi has no idea which way to go.

The microwave dings, and Levi opens his eyes. For a flash of second, he could have sworn that Eren was sitting next to him, but there’s nobody there. 

Levi is alone in this big house. Just like Eren.

Alone, bare, vulnerable, and damned.

And there is nothing he can do.


	12. Bad Moon Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took me one month to update, no biggie. orz Summer camp is officially over which means I can dedicate what's left of the summer to getting back on track with updates. ~ Thanks to everyone who has left some love!

The deeper Levi digs into the blotch of people that surround his home, the more he realizes that he’s moved into a genuine ghost town. The heart of the place isn’t easily accessible from the highway, nor was it ever pointed out by the realtor. Having visited the town square some weeks ago, Levi thought that was all there was to it, but he was wrong.

On the western edge are a series of mines that have long been abandoned. A mountain range guards the eastern border. The highway cuts from north to south, leaving both frontiers adorned with modern cities and booming nightlife.

The fact that everything is bigger than Levi had originally thought is troubling. However close the cities may be, the wilderness is even closer.

It does grant him some level of peace, especially when he gets behind the wheel and drives. Beautiful scenery zooms by, a blur of muted colors swirling together outside his windows. He only catches them out of the corner of his eye, but not because he’s careful to keep his eyes on the road. The endless amount of asphalt is desolate except for his car.

Since getting up from his ruined rug this morning, Levi has felt displaced. He has no other way to put it. Something just feels present, heavy, and – _wrong_. Like a soft pressure along the area between the top of his spine and the base of his skull. There’s no name for it, he thinks; it just is.

Paranoia eats away at him.

He’s being watched, or worse, stalked. Someone is planning. Something is plotting. This goes beyond night terrors and disturbing houses because this is following him. It has followed him into his car; it has wrapped its sickly fingers around Erwin’s ankles and now no place is safe. Drive wherever he may, crash wherever he pleases, it will always be there, just one step ahead.

The constant vibration of tires over a weathered road sets a comforting blankness over his thoughts, like background music. It allows him to breathe. Lowering the car windows, the biting cold, allows him to think.

A hollow pit has opened up in his stomach since he woke up from the dream within a dream, making him feel displaced and different, like something has been flipped on. The sensation isn’t a new one, given that it’s a common occurrence whenever someone wakes up from a deeply disturbing nightmare. But the added feeling of desperation that hangs over him like a cloud makes matters all kinds of worse.

Levi is lodged in a repetitive loop of panic-stricken feelings similar to those he felt as a child. He remembers getting up at the dead of night for a drink of water, the long corridor he would have to walk down in order to reach the kitchen. He remembers how he would have to turn his back towards the darkness of a too-big living room in order to open the refrigerator. Every time, he remembers the fear of turning around and finding someone standing there. No real reason, just a fear he doesn’t know where it come from.

Stuck in a haze that is far too disquieting, Levi no longer knows what to do. He can’t wait anymore. He can’t stand back and let whatever is lurking in the dark rooms of his house grab the hem of his shirt the moment he turns his back to it.

A faint ringing goes off in his ears, but it fades when the remnants of the town come into view.

The gray sky matches with the hazardous circle of old wooden buildings and misty mountains. Asphalt eventually turns to gravel when Levi pulls into the only diner he sees, one that stands perpendicular to a gas station littered with transport trucks and motorcycles.

Parking between an old Ford pickup and a much newer Prius, Levi cuts the ignition but doesn’t get out of his car just yet. The ringing starts again, but despite being able to hear it, he can’t pinpoint where the sound comes from. He leans against the steering wheel, squinting out into the lot and finding no source.

Giving up, Levi removes the keys from the ignition and heads out. The air is chilly enough to make his teeth chatter. He probably should have layered up more.

The inside of the diner is different to what Levi had been expecting. It isn’t a hippie joint, much less anything reminiscent to the 50s. The wooden structure is just as old inside as it is outside, only better kept. There are wagon wheels hanging on the walls, deer heads, and animal skins. Classic rock bleeds through the crackling speakers, making the place eerie yet oddly cozy.

“You must be the new guy,” says a young woman from behind the counter. She’s eating a chocolate muffin; pulling off tiny bits and popping it into her mouth.

In the most cliché way Levi can even imagine, the majority of the people present turn their heads to get a look at him. No one says anything, for the exception of several seedy looking truckers that snicker amongst themselves. One of them makes a lewd remark, and if it weren’t for him being so out of it, he would have gladly bashed the asshole’s face in.

Ignoring them, Levi crosses the wooden floor and sits on a stool. “It’s been weeks,” he says, clipped and short. The less conversation, the better.

“No one ever sees you around, though. So it’s like you’re still brand new.” The woman grins at him around a mouthful of chewed muffin. Levi looks away, disgusted. “You got a name, stranger?”

“No.”

“But everyone’s got a name.”

Levi can’t tell if she’s trying to sass him, or if she really is this dumb. There’s a curl on the corner of her mouth, however.

“I haven’t had coffee yet,” he says, making sure that she gets the message.

“Oh, grumpy early bird, I see.” Knocking twice on the counter, she leans back to look in the direction of a side door. “Yo, Connie! I need you out here.” Someone calls back, but it’s too indistinct to make any sense out of it. “Any kind in specific, sir?”

He shakes his head, idly scratching at his arm. “The strongest you have.”

The man who Levi can just assume is Connie emerges from the door, tying an apron around his waist. He’s shorter than the lady, bald by choice, and he won’t stop grinning. “What will it be, Sasha?”

“One Americano. Supersize it,” the woman, Sasha, says. “Amount of sugar is up to you, sir. Anything to eat with that?”

His stomach may be grumbling, but he doesn’t feel hungry. It’s too early for breakfast, even for him. But he drove all the way up here for nothing, so he might as well justify the gas he just wasted.

Looking at the blackboard hanging behind Sasha’s head, he reads over the items with a frown. Everything sounds too greasy and overall unhealthy. “I’ll have a Cuban sandwich.”

She marches towards the stovetop while Connie adds the last of the coffee and places it on the counter with nothing but a carefree smile and nod.

The drink is strong enough to wake the dead. Levi keeps his finger pressed to the ceramic mug, soaking up the heat while his breakfast gets ready.

A familiar song bounces around him, making him hum along to the old tune.

Another careful sip and he realizes that he’s humming the wrong song.

There was never any music to begin with, but then there is. He can hear something. Something rhythmic, but not music.

Levi’s chest grows tight, he can swear that the ground beneath his feet is shaking stronger than any earthquake, but everyone around him is calm. The picture frames aren’t rattling, the glasses aren’t falling, and… and nothing.

There’s nothing wrong, he realizes. Everything is perfectly fine.

A radio silence he hadn’t even realized is now gone, substituted by the chatter of people and the music coming from an old jukebox. There isn’t any shaking, and his breathing is perfectly fine.

“You’re all right?”

Levi blinks up at Sasha, trying to make sense of what she’s asking. “What?”

“Are you all right?” she says again, her face creased with worry. “You dozed off there for a moment.”

Looking down, he notices a nicely cut sandwich in a red basket.

“Thank you,” he says, reaching for one half of his breakfast.

He can’t believe how good it tastes the moment he takes his first bite. Being so remote, he expected the food quality to be terrible, but he stands corrected. The ham tastes fresh enough and the bread, while toasted, is easy on his teeth.

Taking a napkin and dabbing his corner of his mouth clean, he returns to his sandwich, and finds his plate empty.

Perplexed, Levi casts a look around in search of anyone brave enough to even come near him, but the stools closest to him are empty. The same can’t be said about the diner. Not a single booth is available. Those who come in order their food to go, as if they’re pointedly keeping their distance.

Dropping the napkin into the red basket – _blue_ , blue basket – Levi runs a hand over his face.

“What the hell?” he mutters to himself.

He feels perfectly fine. He’s not sleepy, albeit he is tired, but not enough to make him lose his marbles in the middle of a crowded diner.

A suffocating wave of fear presses against the left side of his body, as if it occupied human form and simply strolled in to sit beside him. Levi doesn’t want to move; like a child hiding under the covers, trying to get away from the monster in their room.

Last night’s terror flashes behind his eyelids, paralyzing him on the spot. The faces, the smells, the sensation of walking with no feet, of constantly teetering over the edge of a cruel death for centuries but unable to take that final step.

He’s dreaming, still. He has to be.

Sasha, with her tight ponytail and pink cheeks, tells him something he can’t understand. He figures she’s charging him, so he pulls out his wallet and hands her his card. She looks confused at first, but proceeds to do so.

Even after she’s walked away, and Levi has finished his coffee, he stays there, hastily looking around him.

More faces, but these are real.

The faces around him have eyes, noses, and mouths. They hold expressions other than torturous grief. The profiles are human and natural, not twisted and horrifying.

But there’s something off. There’s still _something_ off and he hates being unable to put a name to it.

Levi is careful not to stare too long, but as he scans the crowd, a clog grinds into place.

Some of them are looking him, but not in the way a person would look at a random person.

Traces of malice shimmer under the surface of stoic faces. Mouths are twisted into deep frowns. Brows are furrowed with distaste. And none of it feels human.

Levi is the target of their contempt and they _know_ him. He has no idea how, but they do. Those are expressions that desire nothing but illness upon him. Irrational, he’s aware, but it’s the truth. It’s the solid, concrete truth.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Levi meets their glares head-on. Dispassionate and surprisingly apathetic amidst the terror gripping his mind, Levi stares back with lifeless eyes. He’s tired.

And he’s also angry.

It’s not something he realizes immediately, either.

There’s a young man sitting by the door, and he’s looking at Levi with a penetrating stare. Aside from twirling his hair, he does nothing to invoke Levi’s wrath, but there it is.

An overwhelming _hatred_ blinds him, so strong, so deep, and so black he can feel his hands begin to shake.

Brown hair, not too dark and not too light. Cerulean eyes; their shade changing when the morning sunlight catches them.

A long time ago – Levi can swear it – he spoke to this man, told him that he had no right to have such lovely hair and perfect eyes. It’s an abomination for him to do so. A sacrilege and Levi will not stand for it. Like spitting on his face, Levi _will not stand for it._

Before he realizes what it is he’s doing, Levi crosses the diner and stands before the booth.

The music and voices fade until they’re hundreds of miles away.

“Can I help you?” the kid asks, picking up his glass of orange juice to chew on the straw.

Perfect hair and perfect eyes, but everything else is wrong. The pieces of the puzzle don’t fit. It’s obscene. “What’s your name?”

The kid puts down his glass and gives Levi a fleeting once-over. He gives him an attitude. “The name’s Thomas,” he says, squaring off his shoulders. “Why?”

Wrong name.

“What’s yours?”

Wrong everything. It’s just wrong and it grates on his nerves so loudly he wants to scream.

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

Everyone around him is wrong.

A woman with long brown hair. An elderly gentleman with blue-green eyes. An infant with tawny skin. A young girl with a wide grin.

“Thomas,” Levi says. He measures the name, rolling it on his tongue.

It’s the wrong name, but it’s a good one.

Leaning down, Levi braces his hands on the table. The closer he gets, the farther away the kid tries to get. That’s when he sees it, that flash of uncertainty where previously there had only been hostility. All Levi has to do is face it, and it will back away like a frightened animal.

This is his key.

Control when previously he had none. A faint flicker of power.

He can do this. All Levi has to do is grip onto that searing hatred and wield it as his shield. Use his fear against the monster.

Inches away from the kid’s face, Levi gives him a tight smile. “Thomas,” he says again, committing the name to memory. Fleetingly, he looks out the window, and then back at him.

The kid’s eyes are wide, showing off their pretty color. “Okay?”

Levi nods, and knocks three times on the table. “Looks like we’re in for nasty weather.”

Pulling away, he pays no heed to the dozens of eyes now on him.

He’ll remember their faces; the same faces that screamed at him in that wretched place.

Humming the song he had heard before, Levi pushes open the front doors and heads for his car. It’s a beautiful day out. The sun is shining and the sky is a gorgeous blue, even if it’s cold. He goes to adjust his jacket and realizes that he had never put one on when he left the house. The thought doesn’t bother him.

Keys fished out of his jean’s back pocket, Levi unlocks his car and takes in one more deep intake of crisp morning air. It’ll be a good day, he tells himself. Turbulent, but a good one.

“One eye is taken for an eye.”

•••

Levi hasn’t the slightest idea how he manages to arrive at the Lane unscathed. The drive itself is missing from memory, along with several other random bits and scenes. Part of his brain feels like it’s glitching, corrupting data as the day carries on, ignorant and uncaring of his troubles.

The radio silence is back, leaving no room for trepidation as he marches up the steps to his porch. He pushes open the front door without breaking a sweat. Fearless. That thing that broke in him has healed over, toughening his layers. Helplessness has given way to wrath, stubbornness, and determination. _Or madness,_ a little voice inside his head says.

Aware that the insurmountable amount of issues both mental and physical are only buried under a ton of bullshit bravado, Levi gets to the only thing that can truly calm him. He cleans. He adjusts the mess of cluttered furniture, pushing them back into place with an ease his mind envies.

What goes in the kitchen returns to the kitchen, and what goes in the living room returns to the living room. The soiled rug gets thrown out onto the porch for later discarding. The same goes for pots and pans he doesn’t use. Movies he doesn’t watch, CDs he doesn’t listen to, couch pillows he doesn’t like leaning against, they all go into a box, and he throws it outside.

When he catches himself, it’s too late. He’s stripping his house bare, leaving only what he needs. If he can’t burn the house down, then he’ll burn everything in it.

Levi pushes the boxes out to the porch, and when he’s out of boxes, he throws things into a messy pile.

It takes him a near hour, but he eventually finishes clearing the first floor. Cleaning takes him another hour as he sweeps, mops, scrubs, and disinfects. He scrubs, scrubs, scrubs until the wires from his sponge break skin and his knees begin to ache.

But there’s silence. He can grasp what he’s doing, remember every nook he’s polished.

Levi sees him while shining the mirror in the living room. He stops, looking at the reflection with a distinct feeling of nothingness.

“You’re home,” Eren says, giving him a crooked smile. “I thought you’d finally bailed for good.”

Bringing down his arm and letting the rag fall to the floor, Levi stares at him through the mirror. “Where’ve you been?”

“Around,” he says with a shrug. “I thought you were gone so I didn’t bother checking in earlier.”

Levi is sure that’s a lie. He may not have seen Eren out and about, but he had felt the coldness that only belongs to him. “Oh.”

“That’s it? Oh?” Eren laughs, a sound meant to be sweet and warm. “I was expecting something a little more… I don’t know.” He approaches Levi, but his steps are hesitant. “I thought you’d miss me.”

Not wanting to see the reflection anymore, Levi pulls the mirror off the wall and throws out on the porch. The thing shatters.

Moving back into the house, Levi is careful not to look at Eren.

“What’d I do, now?” he says, sighing loud enough to ruffle the hairs at the base of Levi’s head. “Last time we saw each other, you were blissfully fucked out. Don’t really get why you bailed.”

To Levi’s disappointment, the ground level is as clean as it’s going to get. There’s nothing else to throw out and nothing left to scrub. He looks down at his hands, finally realizing the faint throbbing of his fingertips.

Hands on his hips, Levi takes a deep breath. He keeps his back towards Eren. “What are you, really?” Nothing guarantees him a truthful answer, not now. Still, he finds himself feeling eerily calm.

“Not this again.”

“No, really.”

“Levi—”

“You have thirty seconds before I purge you.” From his pant pocket, Levi pulls out a lighter. “Kitchen’s still soaking in detergents; in case you’re wondering how fast this place will go up.”

Eren blinks, confused. “What the heck’s gotten into you?”

“Everything’s gotten into me,” Levi says, casually. “Mostly I’m just tired, and you’re the root of my permanent insomnia.”

Levi waits, anticipating the anger Eren is known for, but it never comes. His eyes are open too wide, brimming with hurt and it settles wrongly in his gut. “I was only trying to make things better.”

“I’m not asking again.” Levi closes the space between them, igniting the lighter as he goes. “You have something to do with the nightmares, with the memory loss. You’re going to tell me right the fuck now before I light up both our asses.”

He isn’t bluffing, not in the slightest. With this thing, he doesn’t have the luxury.

“Don’t make me call Erwin,” Eren warns. “We both know he’s been an outstanding guy when it comes to humoring you, but he will get you to a hospital if you even try to cause yourself any harm.”

Levi’s mouth twitches into a half smile. He closes in on Eren, until his back rests against the wall. “Maybe I am losing my shit, but you’re still the cause of it.”

Up against the wall, Eren stands straight and looks down at Levi with a frown. “And whose fault is that?”

Pressing close, Levi stares him dead in the eye. He doesn’t immediately say anything, gauging Eren’s expression.

Something urgent is nagging the back of his mind, something that doesn’t feel right.

Eren is quick to ignite his temper when unfairly accused of anything. Here, he’s being too calm, too collected.

All he needs is one more push to get him to crack, to let Levi know that his instinct is right.

“Why aren’t you angry, Eren? Why aren’t you wailing at me?”

“Why would I be?”

“Because last night I let Erwin fuck me until I shouted my throat raw,” he whispers, pinning Eren to the wall. “I felt you moping around like a kicked dog.”

Eren’s nostrils flare.

“It was… liberating, to say the least. Being able to let it go and just fuck like animals.” Levi stumbles when Eren shoves him back. “Struck a nerve?”

The face that stares back at him is a mixture of familiarity and foreignness. The milky attributes of those golden eyes make Eren seem overwhelmingly dangerous. “Stop it.”

Levi squares his shoulders, standing taller. “Does _that_ make you angry? The fact that he and I had sex under the roof we share?”

Eren’s breathing is uneven, fists clenching by his sides. “So all that shit about taking care of you was an excuse to get in your pants, huh?”

Levi’s mouth quirks up into a smirk, and the murderous look on Eren’s face falters.

“I want you out of my house,” Levi says, now certain that this thing isn’t his Eren. “You’re not him.”

The real Eren would have laughed. He would have joked or punched Levi’s shoulder, asking for details. The real Eren would have gotten angry at the accusations and rejoiced at the knowledge that Levi is seeking some sort of comfort.

This Eren smiles despite his anger. “But you still see him when I’m here. You’re twisted enough to take the echo rather than nothing at all.”

Levi closes his lighter, finally getting somewhere. “We both reached the end of the line here, fuck face.”

In the blink of an eye, Eren is standing face to face with him. “No, we haven’t.” One swift move, and Levi is on his back, groaning from the impact. Eren straddles him, hands firmly around his throat. “Since we got here sooner than I expected, we’re gonna have a little talk. That okay with you?”

Forcing himself to still in order to breathe, Levi glares daggers at the being above him. “Fuck off.”

“First,” he says, unbothered. “First, I want you to understand that my claws are in a little too deep by this point.” To make a point, he tightens his grip on Levi’s neck, causing him to choke. “To me, humans are less than bugs in a park. You’re more insignificant than the dying breath of a cancer-riddled old man.” One of the hands around Levi’s throat lets go, and moves to caress the black hair away from his eyes. “Don’t think for a second that I don’t view you like a mud splatter on my shoe.”

Moving enough to ease the pressure off his windpipe, Levi coughs. He can’t find his voice, but he hopes his eyes convey enough.

“I had hoped we could have moved this on quickly, but human hosts are contagious little fucks.” Eren licks his lips, grinding down onto Levi’s body with a smirk. “Your tiny spec of life is mine, Levi. I’m used to power, to being in control and to be allowed to eat anything I wish. I don’t take nicely to others touching what’s mine.”

“What are you?”

“That’s for another time,” Eren says, leaning down to kiss the tip of Levi’s nose. “I _could_ tell you now and it really would make no difference, would it? You’ve known for a while that I’m not him, and yet you jumped right into bed with me, you fucked up, perverted old man.” Another kiss, this time to Levi’s chin. 

Levi stares past him, towards the dark blotch on the ceiling. No matter how much he had tried to deny it over the past couple of weeks, the damn thing is right. There is no excusing the things he did, the thoughts he’s had.

“Go ahead, Levi. Kick and scream all you want but deep down you know you’re too far gone.” His voice is gentle and warm, like a loving reprimand. “You know that something’s changed in you, something that appeals to my nature. Your nightmares exist because you suppress them far too often.”

Finally looking at him, Levi swallows harshly. His stomach is sick. After it all, this isn’t in his head.

“Eren is still in here somewhere,” Eren says. “I’m taking the necessary measures to keep him safe. I need him just as much as I need you, pretty boy. Hell, I’d go as far as saying that I _am_ him, only, a slightly improved version of him. Because, let me tell you, that boy? There are worlds within him. Worlds filled with so much shit you’d be overwhelmed by it.” The hand tightens around Levi’s throat again, punishingly. “If I were you, I’d think twice about cutting the only line between you and him.”

Lightheadedness sets in, but it gives Levi both comfort and anger.

Control is being taken from him. He’s a pawn to something far greater and more powerful. His thoughts and feelings have been manipulated to serve a plan he has no clue about. Yet, a part of him rejoices in this. God – or anyone – help him, a surge of excitement lights up every inch of him.

Like ascending towards something ethereal; he may not understand it, but there’s something waiting for him just behind the veil.

Levi moves his lips to ask anything, so many questions plaguing his mind, but he can voice nothing. He’s at a genuine loss of words.

“Tell me how you feel,” Eren asks, oddly enough. His demeanor is pleasant as his smile is kind. “Tell me about all the thoughts I know are keeping you up at night.” Smile morphing into a bright grin, Eren kisses his mouth. “Tell me about how well I’ve trained my faithful little pup.”

His first instinct is to tell the thing to shut the fuck up.

“The road to recovery starts by talking about it,” he says, mockingly. “Isn’t that what Erwin always says?”

Levi grits his teeth, fruitlessly trying to shimmy out from under him. “Shut up.”

“What pisses you off, Levi?”

“You.”

“No, what _really_ makes you seethe with rage? What makes you shed the whole emotionless robot look you always carry? What ticks you the fuck off?”

“Stop it.”

“What makes you feel powerful?”

The question makes everything grind to a stop.

What makes him feel powerful? What makes him angry?

He knows both answers, but what he doesn’t know is how to deal with them. These are the key components for what he wants, but what he wants is wrong.

Eren leans down to press the sides of their faces together. “You know the answers,” he whispers. The hands come away to tenderly touch Levi’s chest. “Fighting it will do you no good. Let me help you.”

“What do you get out of this?” Levi asks, his voice but a breathless rasp.

“Everything.”

Levi shuts his eyes, breathes in deep.

He can’t bring himself to do this, although wanting to, and that scares him the most. One minute ago he didn’t want to, and now he does. The situation is going to continue to escalate until everything is out of control, and then what will he do? How will he live with himself?

_The same way you’ve lived this far._

“This is all on you,” Levi says. God help him with what he’s about to say. “Everything is on you.”

Eren nods. “I expect nothing less.”

“It pisses me off whenever I see someone with his eyes, or his hair, or his smile.” Levi closes his eyes because, try as he may, he will never find the right words to describe this overwhelming feeling. “They don’t deserve them.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“You don’t deserve it.”

“He and I made a deal, I’m afraid. Another way to look at it is that these are his eyes and his hair and all the like.” Bile builds in Levi’s throat. “You want us to pay for this.”

“I’ll find a way to destroy you.”

“The same way you’ll destroy all those other people?” The grin is wicked, shining with sublime satisfaction. “Fair is fair.”

Levi falters.

“Well?”

This isn’t about hunting animals. This isn’t a nightmare.

He’s thinking about genuinely hurting actual human beings.

“Levi, I asked you a question.”

This is sick, twisted.

“Levi,” Eren asks again, grabbing his wrists and digging his nails into the soft flesh there.

_They don’t deserve it._

The world isn’t fair with _him_ , why should he be fair with the world? He is no one to them, why should they be someone to him?

Cerulean eyes, brown hair, brilliant smile.

Those things had never really come back to him. What returned is a night terror that transcends reality itself. A sentient night terror determined to devour him whole and leave no trace behind. And he danced along to the sinister music until the very end, until it became too late.

There’s already blood on his hands, blood that was warm in the coldness of snow. Color in a world of boring white.

Levi doesn’t fancy himself a god, but a man. A man with a hole where his heart used to be. All humans have is one life to live, and this is the decisive point for his. Some people are destined for greatness, but not him. Might as well carry out what he needs to do. This is where he finally surrenders to the darkness that whispers sweet nothings into his ear; the same darkness that leaves bloody scratches along his throat at night.

“Answer me!” Eren bellows, his face distorted into something far from human – something Levi doesn’t fear.

“I just wanted to rip it from them,” Levi finally says. The clouds over his mind clear, and the weight is lifted from his shoulders. “By any means possible, I wanted to rip those eyes right out of their sockets. The hair from their skull. The teeth from their mouth.”

His own peace scares him.

“They don’t deserve it,” he continues, shaking his head. “They don’t deserve it.”

Eren, pleased by the confession, sits up. He takes a deep breath and rolls his head to relieve the tension from his shoulders. “If you’ll have me, I can help you with that.”

“How?” He still needs to know what this thing is, and why it needs him and whatever is left of Eren. “Why would you help me with this?”

Tipping his head back, Eren sighs, and then snickers. “Because I like spoiling my things.” That’s all he offers before looking down at Levi again, and angling his head in the direction of the staircase.

Furrowing his brow, Levi looks to the side, and finds Erwin standing by the base of the stairs.

His gut turns cold.

“He’s a kind and understanding man,” Eren says, sarcastically. “You weasel yourself out of this one, if you want. Make or break. Either stick to your guns, or let him drag you away to a loony bin.” With that, Eren gets to his feet and moves to a couch.

Levi stays put for a moment, and then sits up on the floor.

Silence spreads all around them, tense and uncomfortable. Heaven knows how long Erwin has been standing there, listening to everything. Something tells him he’s been there all this time, which is why Eren wanted him to mouth off.

By the way Eren stiffens on the couch, Levi knows that something is coming. He doesn’t expect for Erwin to kneel down behind him, hands on his shoulders and forehead pressed to the back of his head.

It’s a tender moment ruined only by the severity of the situation, and by the way Eren’s eyes shine deadly.

“I trust your judgment,” Erwin says, and the words land like an ice cold blow. “Please don’t do anything you’ll later regret.”

Levi doesn’t reply.

He stays there, sitting on the floor, trapped between god and the devil.

But he’s already made his choice, and there is no going back.


	13. Jezebel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A (fairly) quick update that is actually twice the length of the usual updates. Hopefully this makes up for my month-long absence, yeah? Quite a few things happen in this chapter, including the appearance of a certain someone. ~
> 
> Now, **this chapter includes triggering content** such as _dub-con, a brief instance of non-con, and death._ I have updated the tags to include everything, so please make sure to proceed with caution. It is imperative to point out that this is a dark fic, even if it's seemed fairly mild up to this point in time. This _will_ get darker, I can assure you that much. And now that that's out of the way, I hope you enjoy the killer (pun intended) ride.

For the first time in months, Levi wakes up – well rested – to a sunny day.

Sitting up on his bed, he cracks his knuckles and wiggles his toes as he buries himself deeper between the sheets and the pillows against his back, unwilling to get up just yet. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, painting the room in warm colors. The winter had been so cold and dead, he welcomes the splash of life with a pleased sigh.

A knock on the door draws his attention.

“Breakfast is ready,” Erwin says as he leans against the doorframe, wrapped in an ugly bathrobe. “I made us waffles.”

Levi looks at the bedside clock and notes that it’s almost noon. “Brunch.”

“Figured I’d let you sleep in since it’s a Saturday.”

Grateful, Levi nods.

He waits until Erwin is gone to get up and amble towards the bathroom in nothing but his boxers. He showers, brushes his teeth, and combs his hair. He also shaves, something he hasn’t done in over a week, having been too shaken to even go near a razor. Erwin kept nagging him about it, saying that Levi reminded him of an old colleague whenever he kept any sort of facial hair. 

Skin now feeling baby soft, he slips on a pair of pajama bottoms and heads downstairs.

The smell of waffles tickles his nose, and Levi is hit with the realization that he feels all right. Content, even. Peaceful intimacy radiate from the concoction of all kinds of elements around him. The smell and taste of good food, the softness of his pajamas against his skin, the sight of Erwin moving about his kitchen, humming a lively tune.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend to get back to?” Levi remembers the original agreement being that Erwin would stay with him during weekends, and then return to Mike for the work week. So far, Erwin has made Levi’s house a semi-permanent residence.

“He’s at his parents.”

“He has parents?” At Erwin’s deadpan look, Levi shrugs. “Not something I think about.”

“Yes, he has,” Erwin says, serving up their food and placing it on the newly restored island counter. “He took the opportunity to spend some time with them while I get things settled.”

“And by things, you mean me.”

“Precisely.”

“Gee, Erwin. No need to sugarcoat it.”

Erwin smirks, pulling out a bottle of syrup from the pantry. According to the label, it’s blueberry. “How are you feeling, by the way? You sound like you had a good night’s sleep.”

Taking his utensils and straightening up on his stool, Levi hums. He cuts and takes a bite, and is unsurprised by how delicious it tastes. The waffles themselves have blueberries in them.

“I did.” Not a nightmare in sight. No tightness of breath. There was no sensation of being watched, and no coldness wrapping around his ankles. “Best I’ve slept in months,” Levi adds, completely honest.

His mouth almost twitches into a smile, but a knock on the door interrupts the dreamy mood.

The two of them exchange inquisitive looks.

Obvious that neither of them is expecting company, Levi hesitates answering.

When the fourth knock comes along, this one harsh enough to rattle the door, he gets to his feet.

Through the tightly patterned screen Levi can see a silhouette he doesn’t immediately recognize, but he unbolts and unchains the door anyway. Who he sees standing on the other end surprises him for a handful of reasons, but the surprise gives way to dread in a near instant.

Standing on his porch, dressed in a pressed blue uniform, gun holstered on her hip, is Eren’s sister.

Taller than him and almost as imposing, the permanently impassive twist of her mouth is her trademark look. She’s a beautiful woman despite that, but her edges are far too rough for anyone to approach without getting cut.

No word is exchanged, the two of them giving each other hard stares.

He and Mikasa have never seen eye to eye where Eren is concerned. On more than one occasion she accused him of corrupting her brother, the conversation turning awkward pretty damn fast while they sat at Mrs. Jaeger’s dinner table.

They eventually made peace when Eren revealed their engagement. Their truce had been a tumultuous one, but they held fast for Eren’s sake.

Of course, as expected, all ties were severed the day Eren’s casket was lowered into his plot.

“Officer,” Levi eventually greets, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him. He notices her subtle attempt to look inside the house.

“Am I interrupting something?” she says, her voice deep despite its softness.

“Only breakfast.”

“With your boyfriend?”

“You know Erwin,” he says with a scowl. The accusing tone ticks him off. “Is there a reason why you’re here?” Politeness be damned; they crossed that line years ago.

Mikasa hooks her thumbs on her belt and looks down at him with a menacing frown. She seems unbothered by the fringe of hair that falls over her right eye. “Would you believe me if I said I’m here to check up on you?”

Levi narrows his eyes. “Not for a second.”

“Good, because I’m not.” Shuffling her feet, she looks to the door. “Are you going to invite me in?”

“I don’t see why I should.”

“Because it’s fifty degrees and you’re not wearing a shirt,” she remarks, her tone of voice eerily similar to his.

Not for the first time, Levi wonders if the reason why they bump heads so much is because they’re a lot more alike than either of them cares to admit.

She does have a point. Even if it is a sunny morning, the cold still bites at his skin. He wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t pointed it out.

Rubbing his hands together, Levi begrudgingly opens the door and gestures for her to step inside. “Please, make yourself at home.” He hopes his sarcasm is as clear as he thinks it is.

When Mikasa enters, she pointedly nods her head in Erwin’s direction before walking into the living room like she owns the place. Her posture is that of detached professionalism rather than that of a civilian, and something about that makes Levi’s stomach turn sour.

The clattering of plates and the sound of rushing water makes Levi turn to Erwin, who is now rinsing his dishes. “Your food will get cold,” he says, words oddly tight.

“I’m not hungry.” His appetite was shooed off to hell the moment he’d seen Mikasa.

“At least drink your tea,” Erwin presses. “I’ll go get dressed.”

“Bring me a damn shirt.” Unwillingly, Levi takes the mug he hadn’t even noticed Erwin had brewed. He’s gone up the stairs before Levi could thank him.

Sucking up the heat that radiates from the mug, Levi steadies his nerves before heading into the living room. Here he finds Mikasa standing in front of an empty mantelpiece, arms crossed over her chest.

“How’s life been treating you?” she says, only half turning to not be rude. “No one’s heard much from you for a while.”

Levi stands still, carefully trying to read her intentions. Call it instinct, but ever since his youth, the police began to inspire a feeling of distrust in him. “Work’s got me occupied.” Not exactly a lie.

“You’re still working for Smith?”

Beginning to feel exposed, Levi fights the urge to shield himself from her hard stare. Instead, he places his free hand on his hips in a defiant stance. “Yes.”

Mikasa begins to pace the room, not bothering to hide the fact that she’s looking very closely at every empty pocket. Logic dictates that there is nothing wrong with what is going on here, because Mikasa has never stepped foot inside his house. There is no way for her to tell that something is out of place.

“How’s that going for you?”

“Fair.”

She looks at him again. “You can at least pretend to be civil.”

“You show up on my porch unannounced on a Saturday when only a select amount of people know where I live.” He licks his dry lips and shuffles his feet. “My bad if I feel a bit paranoid of the fact that you managed to find this place.”

“Perks of being lieutenant,” she says, almost smiling. “But I’m not here on duty, not officially. This isn’t my county.”

“Clearly you didn’t come for tea.” Remembering that he’s holding his own tea, he takes a sip from it. It’s pleasant.

“I picked up a missing person case over the radio.” Standing in front of where the television used to be, she touches the empty wall there. “They expanded the search area after a few days of not having found anything, which resulted in the vic’s profile being dropped at our department.”

Levi’s blood runs cold.

“To be completely honest, I had no idea this was your place until a few days ago when I saw you washing the car.”

“Now you’re stalking me.”

“The last person to see the victim was a few miles from here,” she says, unbothered by his snappiness. “Open wilderness that can only be accessed by back roads, what better place to commit something gritty?”

Erwin clears his throat when he rejoins them, dressed in jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He quickly hands Levi his own shirt before moving to the door and pulling off his jacket from the coat rack.

“I hate to eat run but I have a company to tend to,” he says with his most charismatic smile. “Don’t forget about tonight.”

Putting down his mug and pulling the gray shirt over his head, Levi sniffs. “Tonight?”

“Petra invited us to dinner. Apparently she has some big news to share with us.” Zipping up and fixing his collar, Erwin grabs the keys to his pickup. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” And to Mikasa, he holds out a hand for her to shake. “Forgive me for being unable to stick around.”

Mikasa manages to give him a professional smile, and shakes his hand. “Likewise. Have a safe drive.”

Without another word, Erwin offers them a casual salute before heading out.

The two of them stay quiet until his truck has long left the lane, and Levi is left feeling betrayed. The goddamned company building doesn’t even open today, the lying sack of shit.

“As I was saying,” she says all of a sudden. “I came to ask if you’ve come across any joggers some three weeks ago.” From inside her shirt pocket, she pulls out a small piece of paper and hands it to him. “This would be him.”

Levi takes the photo and frowns. Through the blurriness of it, he can make out a mop of unruly dirty blond hair. Green eyes stare off to the left, probably looking at someone that’s been ripped off the picture. The backdrop is that of a public pool.

“Five feet six, blond hair, blue eyes, athletic build. He was on vacation with both his daughters.” Mikasa’s stare is sharp on him. “Went out for a run and never came back.”

“His eyes look green here,” he says, giving back the frayed picture. “Never seen him.”

“Are you sure?”

Levi shrugs. “I’m home most of the time but I’m rarely ever outside. Too cold to even go hiking.”

“She’s sharper than you give her credit for.”

The effort that it takes to not be visibly startled is colossal when the disembodied voice joins in.

While Mikasa stares pensively out the window, Eren appears behind her, looking far too amused for comfort.

“Nothing you’ll say will convince her that you weren’t somehow involved in this,” Eren says, arms crossed and circling her. “There’s a reason why she shot up the chain of command like it was a kids’ game.”

Levi doesn’t look at him directly, keeping his attention on Mikasa.

“You know I can’t believe you,” she says, but there’s an air of defeat in her. “I’ll find a way to bring you in for questioning.”

Turning instead to stare at his mug, Levi moves to lean against the couch’s armrest. “Eren’s death isn’t on me and you know it.”

“Had Eren been home, none of this would have happened.”

“Eren was a grown-ass man,” Levi snaps, anger saddling up. “He was perfectly capable of defending himself if he needed to, so don’t come with that bullshit.”

“Oh, yes, exceptionally capable!” Mikasa breathes in deep when she realizes that she’s raised her voice. “So capable that he got himself killed.”

“Shit happens,” Levi says, trying his hardest not to lose his composure. “The worst possible shit happened and we were both unable to save him. You don’t see me blaming you for it, so stop trying to pin me as a murderer.”

“Round and round and round we go,” Eren says, plopping down onto the couch without ceremony. “You never told me she thought you were the one to pull the trigger, so to speak.” He crosses his legs. “Were you?”

Levi clenches his jaw but doesn’t take his eyes off Mikasa. “I didn’t kill him,” Levi says, keeping his words perfectly steady. “And I have never seen your victim.”

Mikasa swallows hard as she shifts her posture from threatened to resigned. Her hands clench and unclench, probably to relieve the pent up fury. “How did you do it?” she asks. “How did you get over it?”

The question doesn’t come as a surprise. Levi finally looks to Eren, but doesn’t meet his eyes. “I didn’t.” Fiddling with the edge of his shirt, he turns back to Mikasa. “Don’t think for a second that you know how I feel.”

“He and mom were the only things I had when dad left.”

The words strike a chord in him because he knows what it’s like.

Mikasa has grown. She’s no longer the little girl Eren would play with on Friday nights after dinner, or the kid who would limp home with a scuffed knee Levi would clean up. But she’s still as protective, something she has turned into strength and applied it to her everyday life. Regardless of the history, Levi can’t deny the hint of pride hidden in the depths of his troubled mind.

“If you can’t offer any help, I’m not going to keep wasting my time,” she says, crossing the living room and heading for the front door.

Levi doesn’t bother looking her way, much less showing her out. “I’ll keep the sheriff’s department posted if I see anything relevant to your case,” he says. He can taste bile sticking to the back of his tongue.

“Keeping information from the law,” Eren says, idly scratching at his stomach. “That’s two marks on your criminal record. Not as bad as committing first degree murder, at least.”

The front door closes, Mikasa not bothering to acknowledge his last words as she does so.

Through the window, Levi watches her get into her patrol car and stay there. She doesn’t pull away until a few minutes later, and it’s only then that Levi allows his shoulders to sag. Not with relief.

He leans against the wall with a sigh, running a hand over his face and punching the bridge of his nose. This is getting out of line.

“How long until she comes back?” Eren says, feigning concern until his mouth turns into a grin. “Pretty smooth save there.”

Levi stares at him with revulsion. 

An idea does click, however.

Not once did he consider Eren’s old friends coming into play. Mikasa is, of course, out of the question for what he plans on doing. He needs someone who will hear him out and not pass brutal judgment. Levi needs someone capable of thinking things through before jumping to conclusions. Who he needs is someone with enough knowledge to answer his more theoretical questions regarding the situation.

And he knows just the person.

•••

Underwear, socks, undershirt.

“You should go out dressed like that. Give your co-workers a good laugh.”

A white, neatly ironed button down tucked into black pants. Navy tie, silver tie clip, black suit jacket, fake diamond cuff links.

“Now we’re talking.”

Recently purchased ankle holster, silver knife, ankle-high leather boots.

Leaning against a bedroom wall, Eren lifts an eyebrow. “Paranoid, much?”

Standing before his mirror, Levi slicks back his hair and ignores the single fringe that refuses to stay in place. He opens a drawer and pulls out a bottle of cologne, lightly touching it behind his ears and wrists.

Cold lips caress his neck.

Levi stares at Eren through the mirror as he wraps his arms around Levi’s waist, hands wandering the expanse of pressed fabric until they settle on the belt. A thumb strokes the belt buckle, Eren resting his chin over Levi’s shoulder, looking at their reflections with a small smile.

“I’d be a fool if I let you walk out that door dressed like this,” Eren whispers into his ear, playfully taking it into his mouth and giving it a light nibble. His pushes his hands downward until they’re over Levi’s groin, and uses them to pull both their bodies closer together. Eren gropes him. “Let’s fuck.”

“I just got dressed.”

“Please, keep the clothes on,” Eren chuckles, pushing his hips against Levi’s ass. “Dammit, you’re just so goddamned fine when you dress nice.” Another kiss to Levi’s neck. “Your ass looks great in those.”

Able to feel Eren’s erection through their layers of clothing, Levi sighs and pushes him away. “I don’t have time.”

Eren pouts, plopping down on the bed to watch Levi go by his final adjustments. “When do you?”

Levi sneers while putting his clothes away. This thing’s adamancy to play house, to still pretend that it’s in some way, shape or form Eren sickens him. He wishes Erwin would hurry up already. He may not be looking forward to socializing, but he does need to get away from the poison that stinks up the corners of the house.

Organizing his shirts by colors, Levi clenches his jaw when he notices obscene sounds coming from the bed behind him. That thing won’t quit.

Eren makes no sound. There are no moans or gasps, but the squelch of wet skin being stroked is too distinct to be mistaken for something else.

Levi doesn’t look. The idea of this thing touching the mirror image of a body that does not belong to it makes him ill. Even if his body tries to traitorously react to the sounds, Levi is put off by the fact that this isn’t his Eren. The thing jacking off its dick on his bed isn’t the man he loved and lusted for.

“Levi?” But it sure as hell sounds like him. “You’re thinking too loud.”

“Fuck off.”

“Your fault for looking like the human embodiment of sex.”

“You being unable to control your urges isn’t my problem.”

“But the tent in your pants sure is,” Eren says around a laugh. “Get over here and let me take care of that for you.”

Levi whips around, eyes narrowed so sharply even his lips twitch into a snarl. “Don’t fucking think you can touch me, you sick piece of shit.”

Turning around is a bad move on his behalf, because, whether he likes it or not, it’s Eren that he sees on his bed. Pants open, cock standing long and thick as familiar fingers grope at it…

Levi turns his head away with a cuss, feeling hunger gently wrap its claws around his own dick.

“Close your eyes, if you want.” The words are perfectly even, as if his voice was unaffected by the action of getting off. He gives the shaft a slow tug, and ends by teasingly tugging at his cockhead. “Come on, Levi,” he says, drawing out the name like a prayer. “Let me suck on that fat cock of yours.”

Still looking off towards the closed bedroom door, Levi’s thighs quiver, and even his balls warm, feeling heavier at the thought of blowing a load.

“No gag reflex,” Eren adds, sitting up on the bed. He lets go of his cock in order to suck on his fingers. “I can swallow you whole, if you like that. You can feel the back of my throat. Don’t even have to keep yourself in check. Just fuck my face until you’re ready to feed me your come.”

Levi licks his lips, his breathing going uneven as he imagines in vivid detail everything that is being said.

The creaking of the bed makes him look again, and this time he finds Eren getting on all fours. Levi’s mouth falls slightly open when Eren lowers himself onto one elbow and begins fucking his fist, granting Levi the illusion of him fucking someone under him.

He absolutely loathes himself for it, but he moves from the spot to get a better view. The way Eren’s back arches, his ass flexing as he thrusts into his fist is more than enough to make Levi forsake his inhibitions.

Eren looks up, meeting his eyes and drawing him in as if he were a fish caught in a line. “Unzip your pants,” is all he says, and fuck him to hell and back, Levi does as he says. “Only your fly, though.”

Trembling hands pull down the zipper before reaching inside. It’s a hassle to get the boxers out of the way, but Levi manages. He pulls out his cock, hot and ready.

Eren crawls closer to the edge of the bed and smiles up at Levi, still pulling at his dick. “Don’t look if you don’t want to.”

Opening his mouth to retort, he’s suddenly interrupted by a loud gasp that shakes its way out of his throat. He clamps a hand over his mouth, surprised and humiliated by the pathetic sound. But it’s hard to keep in check. Eren takes him in completely and it’s such a snug fit Levi feels like he could cry.

Lips slide down his shaft until they’re met with dark hair and pale skin. Here, Eren stops and stays put, his throat working around the tip of Levi’s cock.

Soft and wet heat makes the entirety of Levi’s being tremble, the top of his body bowing over Eren’s head. “Oh, god, fuck! _Fuck!_ ”

Eren deliberately moans and brings up a hand to fondle Levi’s balls. He pulls back, suddenly, letting the meat messily plot out of his mouth.

“Shit,” Levi grits out, tiny tremors gracing his thighs. “Shit.”

“Am I being good, Levi?” Eren asks in that tone of voice specifically designed to drive Levi crazy. He only takes in the cockhead into his mouth this time, friskily suckling on it before letting it plop out. “Am I being your good little boy?”

Levi moans, high and breathy, before taking a fistful of Eren’s hair and forcing him to swallow him whole again. He holds his head there as he fucks his mouth, quick and dirty. He pushes further than he ever would have dared, relishes the feeling of Eren’s nose bumping into his skin over and over again.

Levi fucks him with fervor, growling out all of his anger. He gets annoyed that Eren doesn’t struggle, that he doesn’t choke as he should, and so he pushes harder.

Eren does react, his hands coming up to claw at Levi’s clothed back, but it’s to urge him on. The son of a bitch is getting off on it and that only incites an overwhelming feeling of pure wrath in Levi that he retaliates by shoving himself even harder against that flawless face he’s called his for years.

The familiar noise of a slamming door jars him from the delirious haze, causing Levi’s pace to falter.

He can hear footsteps coming up the stairs, heavy ones, and he looks towards the clock in a panic.

6:50 PM

“Shit,” Levi somehow manages to grunt, his hands scrambling to push Eren off him. “Stop it.”

Eren shakes his head, looking up at Levi with a glint in his murky eyes and holding him still with preternatural strength.

There’s a knock on the door and Levi tries his hardest to speak, but all that comes out is a wrecked moan when Eren begins bobbing his head over Levi’s crotch.

“Hey, Levi,” Erwin calls from the other side of the door.

The doorknob rattles, and Levi is unsure if he whispers or he shouts it out. “Don’t!” Eren doesn’t give him any sort of reprieve. “Five minutes,” he says, or tries to. “Just… give me… fuck!”

Levi isn’t sure if Erwin steps inside his room or not, too busy hunching over Eren’s body and clinging to it while he begins fucking those thin lips in earnest again.

By this point he can’t keep himself calm, can’t control the moans and wanton little cries that escape him. Everything boils down to this point, building and building until Eren sucks everything out of the slit of his dick.

Levi comes, snapping his hips so harshly that Eren finally does choke, but he drinks until the very last drop.

His cock slips from Eren’s mouth, but Eren moves up to wrap his arms around Levi’s shoulders and pulls him down on top of him for an unrestrained kiss. More tongue and teeth than lips, Levi pushes Eren up the mattress and begins rutting into him, despite his softening cock. The feeling of their skin rubbing together makes Eren chuckle with delight, while Levi dry sobs onto Eren’s shoulder.

It’s too much. Too much, yet not enough.

A hand wrapping around Eren’s cock, Levi begins to jerk him off, but the bedroom door creaks open.

Levi seizes all movement, his stomach raveling into knots despite the amazing orgasm.

Looking over his shoulder, he spots Erwin standing at the door with furrowed eyebrows. “You should have taken care of it earlier,” he says, sounding nowhere near as repulsed as Levi expected him to. “We’re going to be late.”

Levi collapses onto Eren’s chest. He would give a hundred bucks to know just what in the hell Erwin is seeing right now. “I’ll be right down.”

Erwin leaves without a remark, closing the door behind him.

“I swear I’m gonna cut his balls off,” Eren grits out.

“No damaging the goods.” At Eren’s glares, Levi shrugs. “He has a nice package. Sue me.”

“In that case I should bite _your_ dick off.” He clicks his tongue. “Saying those things after I let you fuck my throat raw.”

Taking a deep breath, Levi pushes himself up and off the bed. He’s surprised to find that no piece of this clothing is dirty.

He moves to his dresser and rummages through his underwear drawer for a pack of moist towelettes. He uses two to hastily clean and tuck himself back in.

His mouth tastes sour, stomach rumbling with regret. Of all the things to have done, he loathes the very air he breathes. Levi feels nothing short of an abomination.

Standing in front of the mirror, he makes sure that everything else in place. Now isn’t the time to linger.

“You look as fuckable as you were twenty minutes ago,” Eren says, having returned to stroking his dick.

Taking a deep breath, embarrassed at having to face Erwin on wobbly knees, Levi takes his phone and puts it into his jacket pocket.

“Don’t get into any trouble,” Eren adds as an afterthought. “Not yet.”

Without looking back, Levi shakes his head, and walks out the bedroom door.

•••

The drive into the city is spent like every other drive they take together: in silence. Only the gritty music that drifts out of the speakers fills the uncomfortable quiet that bloats in the tight space.

Having deemed the outing as something fancy, Erwin decides to take the company car rather than his truck. For Levi, he could be riding on a cruise liner and the place would still feel cramped. Erwin’s Aston Martin can very well be considered the sweetest of eye candy, but Levi wants out, immediately.

Flashes and streaks of all colors zoom by outside the tinted windows, the downtown nightlife booming all around them. Levi may dislike overly loud areas, but this type of scene grants a peculiar sense of privacy. Nobody cares about what one is saying, wearing, or even doing, too busy wrapped in their own little social bubble. But where the two of them are going will grant them nothing of the sort.

Petra has made reservations at the most pretentious restaurant in the whole damn city, even by Erwin’s standards. Whatever the announcement is, it must be big.

Erwin pulls up in front of a small but wide building, its terrace decorated to imitate an Italian vineyard. Ivy wraps around wrought iron gates and two wine barrels guard the main entrance. There’s a woman standing by one of the barrels, holding what looks like a menu while talking to a young man Levi thinks he recognizes.

“Don’t hesitate to tell me when you want to leave,” Erwin says without looking away from the windshield.

Levi notices they’re waiting on a valet line. Any snob would probably bitch about having to wait to get their car parked, but Erwin isn’t the type. “I could use some time outside both our places,” he says, drumming his fingers over his knee.

“In that case, I have a business meeting out of the country this March.”

“Long time ‘til then.”

“Nonsense,” Erwin says with a smile. “We’re already halfway way through February.”

The fingers stop mid beat, Levi turning to Erwin with a frown. “What?”

Erwin’s smile falters. “What is it?”

“What day is it?” He could have sworn they were still in January. In fact, he can write down what he’s done day by day and _prove_ that it’s at least late January.

The car stops, Levi not even aware that they have moved. The door on the driver’s side opens, and Erwin looks up at the valet with a smile before turning to Levi. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Levi blinks, watching Erwin step outside and exchange a brief word with the driver.

He hurries out, slamming the car door.

_Chest too tight. Body too cold. Hands trembling._

Levi’s startled when a hand gently meets his lower back, and he looks up to find Erwin guiding him off the street and towards the restaurant. “Everything all right?”

Nothing is ever right nowadays, but he nods his head. “Should have brought a jacket.”

“It _is_ cold out,” Erwin says.

They approach the woman Levi had been staring at before, and he listens to Erwin give his last name.

The woman looks through the black book Levi had thought was a menu and nods. “Right this way, sirs.”

The décor inside the restaurant contrasts the outside one in a way Levi can only describe as _rude_. He may not be Italian, but every dimwit with a pair of eyes can tell that either the place is undergoing renovations, or the owner was unsure of what he wanted.

The restaurant itself is decent with its ambient lighting and private corners, but unlike the old style feeling of the façade, the inside is a lot more minimalist in design. Levi assumes the restaurateur was going for both old and new Italian décor.

“Well, look who’s here.”

Levi mentally applauds himself for not turning around and leaving the restaurant the moment he hears the grating voice.

He looks up at the man, taking extra care to look as unimpressed as he can.

“Nile,” Levi says, filling the single word with as much disdain as humanly possible.

“Levi,” the man says in turn, before turning to shake Erwin’s hand. “Smith.”

“I’m surprised to run into you here,” Erwin says, and Levi isn’t imagining the tightness in his voice.

Erwin is not a patient man, regardless of the effort he puts into acting like he is. He’s also overly possessive of his things. Nile has pushed the envelope on more than one occasion. Not only is he the CEO of their rival corporation, he’s made various unwanted advances towards Levi.

To the woman, Erwin says “I’m sure we’ll be able to find our table, thank you.”

Smiling brilliantly, if not a little interested at the amount of tension between all three men, the woman politely bows her head and walks away.

“Never figured you for a romantic,” Nile tells Levi, doing his best to ignore an imposing Erwin. “Tell me you’re being treated right.”

Levi grimaces. “Better than you can treat your wife. How is she by the way?” he says, and leaves no room for Nile to retort by walking away from him.

Although his back is to them, Levi can hear Erwin snicker. “Quit while you’re ahead. I doubt he’s in the mood.”

“Is he ever? How the hell can you deal with him?”

Levi doesn’t stick around to hear Erwin’s answer.

He walks towards the back of the restaurant, knowing his team well enough to know that they’d choose the emptier part of any place. True enough, he spots Erd’s blond head sticking out of a corner booth.

“Yo, Levi!” Gunther calls out, waving a hand.

Everyone in the booth turns towards him, all of them wearing too-wide smiles. They all say their greetings with a brightness that only old friends can muster. His shoulders sag minutely, but he gives them a nod while approaching the table.

“Glad our corporate model could make it,” Erd says, grinning from ear to ear. “That a new suit?”

“No,” Levi says, although he’s unsure of his answer.

As he slips into the booth, a waiter comes by with two glasses of water. He places them both in front of Levi before leaving without a word.

“Pretty sure it is,” Petra says, leaning over the table to get a better look at him. “You’re wearing low-rise pants. We would have noticed if you would’ve worn low-rise pants before.”

Good point. “I said it wasn’t new, not that I have worn it before.”

“You look really handsome,” she says before sitting back properly.

He nods his gratitude for the compliment.

“Where’s the boss?” Auruo says, huffing indignantly for some unfathomable reason. “You didn’t come here alone, did you?”

“Playing pest control.”

Petra lifts a thin eyebrow while reaching for a breadstick from the basket at the middle of the table. “Who showed up uninvited?”

“The Grinch.”

They all snigger for the exception of Erd, who nearly chokes on his whiskey. “Oh, man. Did he see you? I bet he did. I bet he popped a boner, too.”

This makes them giggle like a bunch of school children.

Levi sighs and sinks into his spot. He feels relief; the camaraderie bringing a hint of life to his tired bones. From Petra’s whimsical laugh to Gunther’s baritone guffaw, not only does it give him a headache, but a good one at that. It’s peaceful, even in its rowdiness.

“Already having fun without me?” Erwin says, and he’s greeted with the same amount of zeal.

He sits next to Levi, patting his knee. He doesn’t ask if he’s all right, because his eyes are already asking the question. Levi only retorts with a harrumph, and pushes the glass of water his way. It’s enough of an answer.

“Did Nile give you the stink eye?” Gunther asks, leaning back and stretching out his arms over the back of the booth. He looks strange with his hair parted down the middle and tucked behind his ears.

“I wish. What he gave me was a lecture on how to deal with business investments. The personal kind.”

A collective _’ooh’_ goes around the table.

“The fuck does he know about that?” Levi says, taking a drink from his glass. He stops the rest of his remark when he realizes that someone is missing. “Where’s Four-Eyes?”

“MIA, apparently,” Petra says. “But that’s okay. She already knows the announcement.”

Next to Levi, Erwin leans in for a breadstick. He dips in a shallow plate filled with olive oil and minced garlic. “And when is said announcement coming?” He takes a bite, hums approvingly, and offers the rest to Levi.

He takes it, imitating Erwin’s process. The bread itself is buttery and roasted to perfection. The oil gives it a perfect balance of neutral acidity.

“Well,” Petra begins, looking at Auruo out of the corner of her eye. “We thought about it for a very long time, and we finally decided that it’s time to take the plunge.”

She holds up her hand, nearly bouncing from the excitement. On her finger is a small diamond ring.

Nobody is surprised.

“Aw, come on.” Auruo shifts and crosses his arms like a petulant child. “You people could have at least pretended to be excited.”

“She could have done a lot better than you,” Erd mutters.

“Hey!”

“That’s true,” she says, putting a finger to her chin. “Hell, I could have done much better.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“But!” she adds, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Auruo’s cheek. “We really can’t pick who we fall for, can we? Besides, he needs a woman who can whip him into shape.”

“That’s true,” Levi says. “Couldn’t pick anyone better for the job.”

Petra looks at him, her expression of surprise changing into a tender smile.

She has always been special, Levi concedes. One of a kind. She _does_ deserve better than Auruo, but it isn’t his place to comment on that. Petra is the kind of woman to grab life by the horns and rip them off if things don’t go as planned.

Their shared romantic history had been a short yet decent one, but they just weren’t meant to be. Neither of them took it personal and went their separate ways. It had been good while it lasted.

“Thank you,” she says, kicking Auruo under the table when he murmurs a snide remark.

And here Levi was, thinking she had never gotten over him. It never occurred to him just how arrogant he truly is, to think that someone won’t move on once they’ve fallen out. He had never really given it much thought until now.

“Personally speaking, I am very excited to hear it,” Erwin says, always the knight in shining armor. “Any plans regarding the wedding yet? I know it’s soon but—”

“June of next year,” she says, taking a curl of her hair in hand and idly stroking it. “Beachside. Auruo will be wearing white. We plan honeymooning in Germany.”

“By ‘we’ she means ‘me’. I was never informed about any of this,” Auruo says, but he doesn’t look bothered by any of it.

Erd nods his head and purses his lips. “Guess we know who has the pants in the relationship.”

 _Good,_ Levi thinks.

The rest of the night goes relatively well, spent having companionable conversations over their meals.

Levi isn’t at all bothered by the wave of misery just beneath the thin layer of contentment. He clings to the voices around him, to their laughter and occasional loud swear word.

Hanji joins them just as the main course is being served, and she comes bearing heart-shaped boxes filled with chocolate. She manages to squeeze in next to Erwin, which squishes Levi between him and Erd.

“My balls need space,” Levi says, glaring at the two men he’s starting to think are doing this on purpose.

“Those pants are already choking them,” Erwin remarks with a god-awful smirk.

“Hanji, get the fuck out of the booth and grab a fucking chair. It isn’t my problem that you don’t have the mental capability to be punctual.”

“Fine, fine,” she says, dramatically holding her hands up while getting up and stealing a chair from an unoccupied table. Sitting down, she crosses her legs. “I do agree about the whole pants thing. Can you even breathe in those?”

The table erupts into another fit of stifled laughter.

“Did you swallow a clown?” Levi says, deadpan. “The joke isn’t even funny.”

“Aw, don’t be mad, Levi. I’m only messing with you.” Hanji winks at him. “Believe it or not, this here ship misses their captain.”

The others mumble their agreement.

“The janitor always forgets to dust under the desks,” Petra says.

“And Erwin always leaves his unfinished cup of coffee on the lounge,” Auruo adds. This earns him a deadly smile from Erwin himself. The man visibly shrinks behind Petra.

“Slob.” Levi elbows him in the ribs. “I leave for a week and suddenly the sky is falling.”

On the other side of him, Erd gives him an odd look, but says nothing.

“So, when are you coming back?” Gunther asks while picking up a forkful of pasta.

“I don’t know yet,” he answers, and he truly doesn’t. To him, he’s only been gone a week, as he’s been doing for the last couple of months. They’re for some reason acting like he’s been gone for ages.

“On the subject of absences,” Hanji interrupts. “Where’s Mike?”

The rest of them fall back into their own conversations, leaving Levi to his own thoughts. He mushes around his baked potato, but doesn’t eat much of it. Having eaten too much bread when he arrived, he’s no longer all that hungry.

At the sight of Petra exchanging hushed words with Auruo, a pang makes itself known in Levi’s chest. Her ring gleams in the weak light, and Auruo has the decency to at least smile at what she’s saying.

Thinking back, he and Eren had never made a big deal about their engagement. Everything about them had been simple – at least, in this regard. Not that he wants to know, but he’s curious about how the proposal between them was approached. Knowing them, Petra was probably the one to ask. Perhaps in a park, or at a restaurant much like this one.

Even in the presence of good company, Levi fears that the loneliness is crawling back.

He hasn’t missed the intimacy of an inside joke until now, seeing Erd and Gunther whispering into each other’s ear. Knowing that he will never again experience the thrill of having a kiss stolen in a public place – thinking that no one has realized it – leaves an empty pit of despair in his chest.

For all his cynical ways, Levi misses the hand holding, the bumping knees under the table, and the muted smiles while switching their plates halfway through their meals.

Levi misses loving someone and being loved in return.

He feels guilty for the thought, especially with Erwin sitting right next to him, but he doesn’t know what else to think. He and Erwin love each other, but it isn’t the same, not in the fashion of two spouses overcoming all odds.

Levi misses Eren. The real one, not the distorted echo built entirely on repressed desires and his darkest thoughts.

 _His_ Eren; not a monster that urges him to do nefarious deeds. The one that entices him to succumb and devour what he longs for most.

_Faces. All sorts of faces. All of them staring, vomiting more faces, faces that wail like the damned. Faces, faces, faces._

“I’m going for a walk,” Levi says, low enough for only Erwin to hear. “I need to get out.”

Erwin turns to him, making sure to keep his expression schooled into one that doesn’t reek of worry or pity. “Do you want to go home?”

“No.”

He only notices that something is off when Erwin stares at the hand he has over the table. His fingers are scrambling, rapidly fumbling with the utensils on his napkin. The hand shakes as if it was possessed, and Levi immediately clenches it into a fist, heart hammering in his chest from the sudden surge of fear.

To his dismay, Petra noticed it. No one else does, but she’s looking at him with an eerily blank expression. She knows him well enough to understand that coddling him will only end badly.

“Erwin,” he warns, growing impatient. “I have my phone on me.” It’s his only hope if he wants Erwin to grant him the space he needs.

Nodding stiffly, Erwin slides out of the booth.

“Leaving already?” Erd says, looking at Levi when Erwin sits down again.

“I’ll be back later,” is all he offers, and walks out onto the street like a bat out of hell.

The sharp cold of night does nothing to alleviate the sudden shaking that has taken over him. Something is _missing_. The best he can describe the feeling is as if he were watching someone physically rip the heart from his chest. It’s not there, because he’s seeing it, beating, outside of his chest – and yet he’s still alive.

His jaw clenches and unclenches rapidly, his tongue lifting and pressing to the roof of his mouth. His stomach whips and crunches, sending pain so searing he can feel his eyes begin to water.

Yet he’s walking perfectly fine.

Hands in his pockets, casual, he saunters down the street. Something is eating him from the inside out, and yet he shows none of the aching discomfort.

The cold is punishing, but not as scarring as what he sees just a few feet in front of him.

Levi stops walking, ignoring the grumbles of other pedestrians as they bump into him from all sides. He briefly thinks he might be seeing things, but he knows he’s not. He knows that build. He also knows the coat and scarf that person is wearing.

For every step he takes forward, the person takes one back.

He goes and stops, they go and stop as well.

Levi starts walking again, this time at a brisk pace in hopes of catching them, but the person stays just out of reach. Like a dream where one runs and runs, he gets nowhere.

He crosses a block and he’s no way closer. Levi walks and walks but suddenly stops when he realizes it.

Someone is following him.

Whipping around, expecting to see Erwin, all Levi sees is the hustle and bustle of all sorts of people. Teenagers out on a weekend, couples on dates, young adults coming in and out of clubs, talking on their phones or laughing over nondescript things. There’s nothing he can see that promises violence or any harm.

He turns around again, this time letting go a startled gasp.

“What the _fuck—?_ ” The exclamation dies away when Eren puts a finger over his mouth, telling him to be quiet.

Stupidly, Levi obeys.

A blink of his eyes and the apparition is gone, leaving him alone in the endless crowd.

Breaths coming in short and difficult puffs, Levi desperately tries to keep form hyperventilating. He should go back, get in the car and leave. There’s nowhere safe.

But in the distance, he can see Eren’s coat.

Seen with no other choice, Levi starts walking towards it, and then stops once more. There’s still someone following him, but they feel no closer than before.

This must be some sort of game; a twisted fabrication meant to scare him out of his mind.

Levi crosses streetlight after streetlight, intersection past intersection, and there is no change in the pattern.

The amount of people dwindles the further away he goes. The street gets darker, the inky black of alleys bleeding into it. He walks until only a car or two zooms by him every couple of minutes, until women in tiny red dresses lean against walls until a car pulls up to the curb.

The more he walks, the more physical the pain becomes. His feet ache in his boots, and his cheeks burn from the cold.

The stench of exhaust fumes is near choking, its plumes lifting up into the cloudy sky and painting it more brown than black. He has no idea what time it is and he should probably head back, but then, Eren finally takes a turn into an alley.

Levi breaks out into a run, careful to not trip over cracked slabs of concrete, pushed up by the roots of the only tree he can see for miles. He’s careful not to get caught in twisted cyclone fences that are supposed to be guarding transport trucks. He runs until he reaches the mouth of the alley between two abandoned factories.

He looks over his shoulder, still hearing footsteps, but finds that there’s absolutely no one there. Even the prostitutes are out of sight.

Out of breath, he takes a hazardous look around.

This is a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea, but he’s already come all this way.

What’s the worst that can happen? That he’ll get mugged? Stabbed? Killed? He can’t be fucked to care. He’s reached the end of the line a long time ago, and he’s running on borrowed time.

Hell if he’s going down without a fight, though.

Kneeling down, he pulls up the hem of his right pant leg and takes out the knife he brought with him.

Standing back up, he measures the familiar weight of it. It’s been years since he last held a knife with the intention to either maim or defend, but just like riding a bike, one doesn’t forget.

Unsure of what he has to do, or what he wants to do, Levi simply starts walking, this time into the darkness of the alley, where not even the moon shines its light.

Something in here is waiting for him, and he won’t leave until he finds out what it is.

He walks deeper and deeper, but finds nothing. He can’t see anything. He can’t hear anything. By all means, he’s alone in the godforsaken place, but the footsteps that follow him finally stop.

The footsteps stop, and a hand grabs his shoulder.

Instinct kicks in and Levi is quick to react. He throws his body into a spin, but he can’t see a goddamned thing.

He can’t touch what he can’t see, but the thing does him the favor to do so. In an instant, Levi finds himself pinned to a cold wall, the breath knocked out of him when a blow is landed in the middle of his chest.

He’s hit again and again until he accepts the fact that he doesn’t have it in him to fight. By this point, there’s no use in fighting. If this thing wants to put him down, so be it, he isn’t scared.

“Why aren’t you angry?” comes Eren’s cool voice, perfectly calm and sweet.

What throws Levi off is that the voice is coming from beside, not in front of him. He opens his mouth to speak, but a kick to the stomach makes him groan.

“Why aren’t you fighting back, Levi?”

Moonlight is finally trickling into the alley, creeping up the long passage, but it still isn’t enough to see. If anything, Levi just wants to stare up at the mop of brown hair, those milky eyes staring at him with choleric hatred. Levi just wants to see his demise but—…

“You’re a real keeper, aren’t ya?!” Eren yells just as another hit is delivered to his ribs.

Levi falls to one knee, gasping for breath. Miraculously, not a single part of him hurts.

“Fight back, you stupid son of a bitch! What fucking use are you if you’re just gonna roll over because you’re too fucking butthurt to stand on your own two goddamned feet?!”

Levi sneers, spitting both blood and mucus out of his mouth.

“You want me to let him see you like this? Huh? I’ll wake him the fuck up so he can see your sorry ass rolled over.” He says the words with a sickening amount of tenderness; tenderness that smells of cruel amusement. “Come on, Levi. Can’t let Eren down, now, can you?”

Levi coughs up more blood, but this time, it’s accompanied by a drowned growl.

Nothing pisses him off more than the sound of Eren’s name coming from this thing’s mouth.

The beating stops.

The clip of shoes comes to a halt just in front of his face, and Levi is trying to desperately navigate through his confusion. He can’t tell if there are two people, or only just Eren. He can’t make sense if this is some sort of illusion, of if it’s real. The pain certainly feels real, especially when it finally begins to trickle into his consciousness.

“I know you don’t like it when I bring him up,” Eren says, and now Levi is certain that it is him hovering over his body. “But you gotta learn how to fight your demons.” A hand caresses his face, cards through his hair. “The law is now poking at your sanctuary, Levi. They’re threatening _us_ and _you’re_ the only who can do something about it. I’m just here for the support.”

Levi tries to shake away the hand, but it only becomes more forceful. He can feel it tracing his neck, running down his arm. It traces his belt, pushes at his belt buckle.

“Leave that reluctance behind,” Eren says. “You can’t win if you don’t fight, big shot. So come at me. Technically speaking, I’m already dead. It’s not like you can cause any serious harm.”

The hand gropes at his groin, and Levi spits up to where he hopes is Eren’s face. All he gets in return in a sick little laugh.

“I’m giving you the chance to fuck me up the same way I fucked you up,” he says, pulling down Levi’s zipper. “Do it.”

He does.

Riding out the momentum granted to him by his anger, Levi stabs down and is lucky enough to catch a foot. The howling pain he hears doesn’t register in time to tell him that something else is out of place. Something viscerally wrong.

Levi moves quickly, getting to his feet despite his own aches and pains and shoves Eren against the far wall. He gives him no time to react, to even speak, and does the first thing that jumps to the front of his mind.

Pulling away just enough, he strikes his knife across where his neck should be, just once, and waits.

He pushes a hand hard against Eren’s chest, keeping him up against the wall.

Liquid heat soaks his fingers.

Levi struggles to calm his labored breathing.

“Not bad,” Eren says, and accentuates the words with a chuckle. “Not bad at all.”

The words sound very far away. The voice circles him, goes around his head until it’s behind him.

A chest presses to Levi’s back, arms wrapping around his waist and squeezing in the form of a lover’s tender embrace.

Levi blinks, confused, and flexes his fingers. There’s fabric underneath his hand.

Shroud lifted, the clouds blown away by a single puff of Eren’s breath, Levi feels his blood run cold when he finally realizes that, in front of him, someone is whimpering. Someone is choking on their blood and weakly struggling against his hold.

On his shoulder, Eren rests his head and sighs. He hugs Levi harder and nuzzles his nose into the disarrayed hair.

“Oh, and another thing,” he says, pressing a kiss to Levi’s ear. “I like to lie.”


	14. Master of a Nothing Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the weekend is treating all you lovely people well. ~
> 
> In this chapter: graphic violence, plenty of gore, drug use, and sex. Enjoy.

_Tick, tock, tick – go the strokes of the clock above armored doors._

Eren now sits in the corner of the cell, his back against the bars and knees against his chest. He’s staring off into the distance, looking disturbed. He’s troubled. The cogs are finally grinding into place, and Levi takes pleasure in the bone-deep satisfaction of seeing him sweat cold.

Round and round and round they go. Where they stop? Only Levi knows.

“How did that make you feel?” Petra says, hushed, the forced impassiveness slipping through the cracks. She doesn’t look at him, preferring to set her gaze on her small pale hands.

Levi remembers that night down to the most insignificant detail, and he knows Eren does too. Eren, who now has a hand over his mouth, is trying desperately to make sense of the unspoken plan floating in Levi’s mind.

“Alive,” Levi says, bringing up a foot to rest it against the edge of the cot. “In control.” He looks down at his hands, contemplative. “ _Good._ It was satisfying to see someone pay after that initial wave of panic wore off. I always thought it would be more difficult, that my morality would keep me from going as low.” His chuckle is sardonic. “Harder to kill an animal than to kill a human.”

“But it was a mistake,” Petra says, words gaining strength. “It was self-defense. You were jumped in a dark alley; you were probably having some sort of episode—”

“No,” he interrupts, perfectly calm, perfectly neutral. “No, it wasn’t.” Slowly, Levi shakes his head. “I knew something was off when I felt blood on my hands. Even after Eren whispered into my ear, that mocking little voice, I didn’t stop.

“I don’t know if he was homeless, or some common thug, or whoever else. All I knew was that there was a person dying under my hand because I hadn’t cut his throat deep enough. He was choking on his blood, squealing out words I couldn’t understand but he just wouldn’t die.” Levi heaves in a breath. “He wouldn’t die and I panicked, so I did the only thing I could think of.”

•••

There’s so much blood. There’s no way this amount of it can belong to a single person. It’s warm as it pools along the back of his hand, soaks the thin layer of fabric the man is wearing.

Levi takes a quick step back and fights the thought of covering his mouth from the shock. This is it, his point of no return. He’s done something that he can never take back. This is different from the fights, from the people he’s harmed throughout his younger years. This is permanent because he has not taken a life, regardless if he had been pushed or not.

Moving in again, Levi tries pressing his hands to the man’s throat to stop the bleeding. He applies pressure but only succeeds in pushing more blood out. The sounds of choking, of ragged cries so wet and torn break something inside of him.

His phone. He should probably call an ambulance.

“And tell them what?” Eren says, leaning against the brick wall, right next to the agonizing man. “You just randomly found a dying guy in some alley?”

Levi ignores him.

He can’t find his phone.

“Fuck,” he curses, squeezing his hands so hard the man beneath them jerks. “Fuck!”

It’s hopeless. The man may not be dead yet, but he’s powerless to stop it. Powerless. Levi is _powerless_ to stop death.

A haggard cough splatters blood across Levi’s face, and his hands tremble where they press against the man’s wound.

Blood, spit, germs.

The fingers that scramble against Levi’s arms are still gripping and pulling, digging into the fabric of his suit. Maybe it’s with anger, or hatred, or regret. Maybe he’s just begging, desperate for the agony to be cut short.

_Anger._

It’s useless for him to control his labored breathing when panic refuses to ease its grip off his spine. He can’t save him.

“ _Why?!_ ” he yells. His very veins run cold when that final cord snaps at long last.

Levi rips the man away from the wall by the neck and throws him to the cold hard ground. The force is enough to get him to bang his head, forcing out another weak wheeze.

Levi watches the man struggle, grip now turned to his own throat.

Why, what? Why him? Why this? Why now?

The moon has shifted enough to illuminate the yawning darkness of the alley. Nearby dents in the concrete are filled with dirty water that mixes with the blood that tries to escape the soon to be corpse. There are dumpsters. A cat watches from the fire escape.

Eren watches him.

Not a thing is different about this monster. The way silver moonlight reflects off his hair is identical as to how it did when he was alive. The way his eyes catch it. The casual slump. How the coat hangs loosely on his shoulders and cascades to his knees. There is nothing to say that this is beast rather than man, dead or not.

Levi balls his hands into fists and realizes that he’s picked up his knife again, that he’s squeezing the polished yet soiled silver hilt.

He’s powerless to stop death, but he can aid.

To help death is like taking god by the hand; crowning himself as judge and executioner. If he can’t stop it, then he will be merciful.

This is all him.

Eren isn’t whispering into his ear, or guiding his hand.

This is all Levi as his blade descends into the man’s chest.

The pig-like squeal tells him it’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. Humans are surprisingly hard to kill.

He pulls out the knife and gives it no thought as he jabs it down again.

And again.

And again.

The experience is surreal and oddly calming. The choking and gargling gives way to the sound of _ripping_. Fabric and meat struggle to give way but when they do, the glide of his knife is smooth and fulfilling.

Levi doesn’t keep count, and neither does he focus on his actions. He lets his hands take the lead, stab after stab along the slender chest pinned underneath him.

The knife plunges in between the hollow of the ribcage, and with strength he had no idea he possessed, Levi drags it down, splitting the chest open until he sees nothing but blood that shines black in the early night.

Still, he refuses to stop.

Levi goes on until the muscles of his arms give out, rage turning to exhaustion. He collapses forward, only just managing to catch himself on his hands, bringing him close to the carnage he’s hosted.

He dry heaves and, without thinking it through, wipes the back of his hand over his mouth.

He pulls away from the mess, knife still imbedded on a mound of flesh he can’t put a name to. He doesn’t care that he’s dragging himself across the revolting floor, bloody hands touching things he doesn’t want to think about.

Levi sits there, distrusting his knees to hold him up.

He and the body are now alone in the alley, with only the sound of dripping water from an unknown source as the occasional interruption to the deafening silence. There are no ghosts to hold his hand.

Time distorts around him, his senses becoming hazy and detached. He’s falling, plummeting through an endless nothing, through water that fills his lungs and poisons his veins. This entire night feels strange. Not dreamlike, because he is fully aware of his thoughts, but it still feels different. Displaced. A reality apart from the one he lives; still real, but not quite there.

Levi keeps falling deeper and deeper into a fault line so crushing his bones snap under the pressure. Faces are staring at him, yelling at him. Hands pull at his sleeves, tug at the hem of his pants. He’s being pulled under the surface.

“Christ, Levi.” The words are crisp and deep, hushed and tormented. “What have you done?”

Levi blinks up at the voice but sees nothing. He knows who it is, though. He can’t answer him.

Big hands slot under his armpits and hoist him up until he’s sitting. He gets dragged to what he assumes is the side of one of the buildings. Those same hands pat him down, pressing and looking for any sort of injury. Lastly, those hands cup his face. Warm lips press against his – unsure, disturbed.

“What the hell happened?” Erwin says, still touching Levi, grounding him. “Levi, tell me what happened. Are you all right?”

Never better, in fact.

Whether it’s Erwin’s touch or not that brings Levi back to the cold alley, he heaves in a shaking sigh. “I’m fine.”

Erwin stays quiet, probably waiting for Levi to explain, and when he doesn’t, he presses another hurried kiss to his forehead.

He brings him into a tight hug, and Levi goes with it, burying his grimy face into the soft fabric of his pristine suit. Strong arms come around his shoulders and squeeze tight, pulling Levi back up, anchoring him to the here and now. Erwin smells of rich cologne and red wine, a lovely contrast to the stench of scrambled gore.

“Stay here,” he says, carefully pulling away. “I’ll go get the car.”

“Where are you taking me?” The question is out without much thinking, but he isn’t surprised by it. Best case, Erwin will drive him to a hospital. Worst case, Erwin will drive him to the police department. Knowing him, the chances of being driven to the hospital are higher.

“Home,” Erwin mutters, surprisingly. He pulls out the satin kerchief he keeps inside his suit jacket and presses it along Levi’s face. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll talk about this.”

There’s no energy left in Levi to put up a fight.

•••

The night goes by in a rush – or is it that city? – as Levi sits, numbly, on the passenger side of Erwin’s car. He’s getting blood all over his precious upholstery. Cleaning it will be a bitch.

“Everything’s fine,” Erwin says into the phone while shaking his head. They’re currently at a red light. “You should see the other guy.” It’s supposed to be humor and Erwin does a good job at selling it to Hanji, who’s most likely not buying it. “Only his wallet. We’ve already reported it stolen.”

Levi rests his head on its side, staring blankly as the lights begin to move again.

Erwin eventually ends the call, and falls into an irritable type of silence. Levi can hear his hands clenching and shifting over the leather of the steering wheel. All it will take is one word, or even a sigh, and it will set him off into an endless rant.

When the concrete jungle turns into walls of ancient pine trees, well after the friendly _Come again!_ sign, Levi finally speaks up. “Don’t do this.”

Between the trees, Levi sees a lake he had never noticed before. The moon casts its shine down on it, making its unmoving surface glow.

“Don’t do what?”

Levi turns his head the other way, watches as Erwin’s jaw clenches. “Covering for me,” he says. “I don’t need your daddy complex.” The grip on the steering wheel tightens, and while he can’t see in the dark, he’s willing to bet that Erwin’s knuckles are white.

Ever since they met, all Erwin has ever done is clean up Levi’s messes. He’s his enabler, his accomplice, and Levi is left to wonder if he really is worth the trouble. He’s curious to know if Erwin’s love for him will ever fade, leaving him stripped and bare for others to pick and tear at. God knows Erwin has enough reasons to walk out and never look back at the broken child he helped revive.

“You wouldn’t need me if you had thought before doing what you did,” Erwin snaps, pressing down on the gas pedal. At least the road is empty. “Just… What the _fuck_ , Levi? What the flying fuck is _wrong?_ ”

Erwin losing his composure is a sight not a lot of people have had the pleasure of witnessing. For the most part, he’s earned the respect of his colleagues thanks to his ability to keep a cool head under extreme pressure. When enraged, Erwin can be downright terrifying.

Shifting in his seat, Levi faces forward.

“I’m willing to put up with the mask,” Erwin says, breathing hard enough to make Levi uneasy. “Trash your car, stub your toe, you keep that same fucking face on, whatever, I don’t care.”

Levi doesn’t intend to interrupt him, but he gasps when Erwin hits the brakes with enough force to jostle him, the screech of tires making his heartbeat accelerate. He winces when the seatbelt cuts into the tender skin of his neck.

“You butchered someone,” he says, hands, arms, and back stiff. He won’t look away from the road. “Butchered, Levi. Not killed, you – you _mutilated_ him and you’re sitting here looking like you swatted a goddamned fly!”

Ah. He did, didn’t he?

“I…” He scoffs, slams his palm against the horn. Repeatedly. “I can’t keep pretending that nothing is wrong, that this will go away if I ignore it.” Stopping, Erwin leans against the door and threads a hand through his now messy hair.

Headlights bounce off the rearview mirror when a car approaches theirs. Whoever it is honks the horn while slowing down, but they don’t stop. Levi hears the driver cuss them out.

“Not sure I know what to say.”

“Then think of something!” Erwin shouts, whipping his head around to face him. “There’s a body in a dumpster because of you.”

“And you fucked up your suit,” Levi remarks with a frown. How he managed to thread through crowded streets in a bloodstained suit without attracting any attention is beyond him.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It’s Armani.”

“I do not care,” Erwin says, careful to drag out each word as if speaking to a child. “This isn’t funny anymore. This isn’t a game, and neither is this normal. I _trusted_ you, Levi. I trusted that you were capable of pulling yourself together without my interference and you fucked up.”

“I know.”

“Good. Good, I’m glad you know.” Erwin squeezes his eyes shut, forcing himself down from his angry high. “If you don’t do something about this, I will see myself forced to take action.”

Levi shakes his head. “Everything’s under control.”

“No, it’s not. You’ve been saying it has been for months and I see absolutely no improvement. All I see is you wasting away under the terror of something that should not be in your home.”

Somehow, Levi is glad that Erwin isn’t calling him crazy. He isn’t denying the existence of that thing, and Levi isn’t sure about the significance of it.

“Let’s just go home,” he says, looking down at his ruined suit with disgust. “I need a shower.” Levi casts Erwin a sidelong glance. “You need a new suit. Probably a new car.”

“Don’t worry about me; I’ll get this mess cleaned up.” Erwin eases the car back into drive, settling back into his seat.

Levi’s fingers twitch over his thigh, angry at how calm Erwin is acting, even if he’s yelling. “This automatically qualifies you as an accomplice.”

“No one will find out about this.”

“Wouldn’t do the company good if news that two of its heads are murderers got out to the public.”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“But you cleaned up the scene, patched the trigger finger up. You’re the getaway driver.”

Erwin’s grip in the steering wheel tightens again.

Turning his head to look out the window, Levi balls his hands into fists. “He wasn’t the first.”

Erwin makes a noise Levi can’t name. Something angry and pained lodged in his throat, unable to be voiced.

“The first one was a mistake,” Levi explains, suddenly very aware of the blood on his hands. “It was a hunting accident.”

“Where’s the body?” Erwin’s voice is like steel: cold and hard.

“Buried a few miles into the forest.” Most of it, anyways. He still has the victim’s eyes in a sealed jar underneath his bed.

“Jesus Christ,” Erwin mumbles, turning the car off the highway and onto the maze of rural streets.

“That one didn’t let me sleep for days,” Levi confesses. Maybe if he talks about it the burden of lying by omission will become easier. “I kept seeing the man’s face and now that’s all I see. Faces, all the goddamned fucking time.”

Street signs and houses zoom by until it all becomes woodland. They pass an abandoned gas station and a warehouse and it catches Levi’s attention for just a moment, but then the thought is gone, leaving him with an empty feeling.

“I swear to god,” Erwin says, breaking the sudden silence that had settled in the car. “I will burn that house down.”

“Then you’ll have to do it with me in it.”

Erwin huffs and Levi doesn’t have to look at him to know that he’s struggling to keep himself in check. “Why? Just… _why?_ ”

Closing his eyes, Levi shrugs. “It’s the only thing keeping me here.”

“What about the others? Hanji? Mike, Petra, Erd, Auruo, Gunther? What about me? Don’t talk like there’s nothing else on this planet that can keep you grounded.”

“That didn’t stop me the last time I tried eating a bullet.”

Erwin goes quiet again, his breathing uneven. “You would rather cling to a nightmare, then.”

“I’ve never exactly been easy to deal with, Erwin. You of all people should know that.”

“You’ve never been one to give up, either.”

“I never said I was giving up.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but there’s a twinge in his chest that guarantees him that he will see the end of the road, even if he has to go down swinging. “If anything, I’d say that I’ve never felt more alive.”

“I’ll get you help,” Erwin is quick to say, his words tight enough to hurt. “I’ll import medical assistance from wherever, I don’t care.”

Levi shakes his head. “One more time. I need you to trust me one more time.”

Erwin steals a glance at him before returning his attention to the empty road. “You know it’s not that easy.”

“Don’t come with that bullshit. You’ve been in my boat for years and it’s going to take more than this to make your resolve waver.”

“Two people are dead,” Erwin snaps. “Now, I don’t know how this registers in your head, but this is a very serious matter. Serious enough to make a man lose his trust in someone.”

“Erwin, I can tell when you’re bluffing.”

“I’m not.”

He’s not. Levi is pushing well past the security line. If he loses Erwin then he will have no one to turn to, no one to prevent him from sinking to the bottom of the river.

“Once more,” Levi says. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s begging, but he is. He can’t keep hesitating, can’t keep lingering on what decisions to make. Slowly but surely he’s losing himself to a creature he can’t destroy, and he can’t have that. “Please.”

Finally pulling into the Lane, they drive along it in silence. Dawn is still a few hours away.

Putting the car in park once they reach the front of Levi’s house, Erwin runs a hand over his face and sighs. He’s thinking hard, judging by the way his eyebrows are pinched.

“I need to think about it,” he says, still not looking at Levi. “There’s a friend of mine I need to see. She lives a few hours from here. She’s good at getting messes cleaned up.”

He’s talking about the car, Levi realizes. “You and your shady as fuck connections.”

“Good boys don’t become CEOs,” he says, and finally there’s a hint of humor in his words. “You won’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” It’s not said as a question despite the phrasing. It’s a direct order.

“A five hour bath is in order,” Levi says while looking down at the mess of him. “After that I’ll just hit the bed and sleep for ten weeks.”

“I’ve got my phone on me.”

“I lost my cell phone.” He only just remembers this. If anything he’ll call from the house, but the odds of him calling anyone are slim. “I think I may have left it at the restaurant.”

“No. I called your phone several times and nobody picked up. I assumed you were ignoring it.”

“Whatever, I’ll just buy a new one. The battery was busted, anyway.”

Levi unbuckles his seatbelt and – to make Erwin happy – leans over to press their mouths together. He doesn’t linger on the way Erwin recoils as if stung, a minute movement that would have gone unnoticed were it anyone else. Levi only gives his lips a soft brush before pulling away and getting out of the car.

“Don’t get into any trouble,” Levi says with a hand on the door.

He tries to bury the hurt of the rejection.

For what it’s worth, Erwin looks guilty for it.

“I should be telling you that,” Erwin replies, trying to offer an apologetic smile. It comes off as pitiful.

Levi slams the door shut and turns towards his porch, but not without noticing that his bedroom light is on.

He hears rather than sees Erwin’s car leave the lane, and with it goes whatever is left of his peace of mind.

He fucked up.

Feet dragging up the steps, Levi shoves the door open with a lethargy that weighs down on his bones. He’s expecting an empty house, but that’s not what he finds. He isn’t surprised.

The television he had thrown out is mounted on the living room wall again, turned on to some movie with far too many explosions and speeding cars. A rug he didn’t know he owned is spread out in front of it and over it rests Eren.

He’s lying on his stomach, chin perched on his hands and legs swinging up like a teenager. All that’s missing from the picture is a bucket of popcorn.

Levi had never realized how this version of him is younger than the corpse he had held against his chest. His face is rounder, lips fuller. There’s an absence of stubble, and there’s no scar on his lip from when he got into a fight at work.

This is Eren as he was when he was still in college, when Levi first laid him out in the back of his car and went down on him. He’s wearing Levi’s favorite jeans – the ones that hug his ass just so – and Erwin’s old worn out hoodie. The Eren before him is _homely_ , gentle and full of life. He’s the bundle of happiness and smiles and sunshine Levi would take in every Sunday morning before breakfast. The Eren he and Erwin would dote on with nice dinners, foot rubs, slow kisses and languid sex.

For the first time since Eren’s death, Levi feels his heart shatter. The loneliness eats away at him just as the sadness mocks his insides. He misses him. He misses him so much and he loathes this bastardized, sick, and twisted version of him, the antithesis to the man with stars in his eyes and sunshine on his skin.

But this thing looks at him as if it’s only just realized that he’s there, and gives him a smile capable of bringing kingdoms to their knees. It may look wrong, but it touches Levi’s weary mind. It makes him suck in a shuddering sigh as he fights the sting in his eyes.

“Welcome home,” it says, its smile widening.

But the illusion of coziness is shattered when Levi remembers that he’s standing in his kitchen drenched in drying blood and gore. There’s dead skin under his nails, pieces of torn fabric that do not belong to him. Viscera cling dangerously close to his mouth. His hands ripped human skin, broke human bone, toyed with organs that should not be exposed—

Levi gags, doubles over on the spot until tears fill his eyes.

He tries for the bathroom, but his knees give out half way up the stairs.

All he can see is the horror he stirred up, the carnage he hosted, and it’s enough to making him throw up on the spot. Seeing his own bile soil his hands only makes him wretch harder.

He can’t hold back the sobs that rattle him, the regret that he is unfeeling towards what he’s done, even if it has left him shaken. It bothers him that it doesn’t feel real although he is keenly aware of what he did and how he did it. It bothers him that – come morning – he will be perfectly able to get up, shower, brush his teeth and have breakfast without breaking a sweat.

“Let’s get you washed up,” Eren says, carefully putting his hands on Levi’s back. “I’ll make you some tea and then put you to bed, yeah? You look terrible.”

No fight left in him, Levi allows to be moved. He staggers up what is left of the stairs, careful to not lean too heavily into the cold arms that guide him towards the bathroom.

Toilet seat down, Levi is silently coaxed into sitting on it.

Eren works quickly and quietly, peeling off layers and letting them fall to the tiles. His hands wipe away some of the blood caked on Levi’s face and tips his head up by the chin, diligently inspecting for any sort of wound. Satisfied, he moves away to turn on the showerhead.

Levi looks at him, unsure of how to react. The gentleness he tends to him with is abhorrent when compared to the brutality he incited earlier tonight. Eren plays as if he’s the owner of two different faces, and both of them are for Levi.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” he says, casting Eren’s back a weak glare. “After all that goading, I figured you’d be more talkative.”

Grabbing a bottle of liquid soap from under the sink, Eren pours it into the water. It’s hot enough to steam up the mirror; just how Levi likes it.

“Do you want me to praise you?” Eren says as he dips his hand into the water and begins stirring it.

Levi turns his head towards the door, unsure of what he is looking for. Acceptance, maybe – now that Erwin has turned away.

“Come on, before it gets cold.”

Licking his lips and not thinking too much into it for the sake of his pride, Levi stands up and removes his underwear.

The water is hot enough to be uncomfortable but he sinks in regardless. His skin will be red by the time he steps back out, but he needs the heat and the burn. He searches for a tether, and what better than pain?

He’s washed without protest, hair scrubbed and nails picked clean. Eren runs a small towel along his back and down his arms, dragging away the evidence of his crime. He’s tended to with diligence, rough hands that for the moment only mean well.

His face is the last part of him to be washed. He’s forced to close his eyes when Eren runs clean water over them, smoothly prying out the clumps of dried blood from his lashes. A thumb rubs at the corner of his mouth, and then a nail picks off dirt from his cheek.

Levi allows his body to go limp in the hot water, his hairs standing on end at how pleasant an experience it is. Eren’s hands move with purpose, strong yet gentle, along every inch of skin. His thumbs dig deep into his muscles, working out the built tension.

“What you did was wrong,” Eren says as he runs his hands down Levi’s chest. “There’s no other way to call it.”

Looking down at his toes as they break the surface of the water, Levi sighs. “Will you make up your mind?”

“I have.” His hands slide up again, one of them lazily resting around Levi’s throat while the other falls away. “I said it was bad, not that I wasn’t happy about it.” Eren leans in to nuzzle the side of his face. “You did good.”

“This is your master plan,” Levi says, pushing the hand still touching him away. “Getting me to kill for your entertainment?”

Eren shakes his head with a frown. “There’s no master plan, Levi,” he says, softly. “It’s one of those things that just is, you know? I don’t _want_ you to kill people, but if it’s what you want to do, then by all means I’m not going to stop you.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone.” Levi turns to look at him. “I did this because you pushed me.”

“Since when do you cave under peer pressure?”

Levi clenches his fists. “I did not do this of my own volition.”

“You did and you know it,” Eren coos, chuckling against Levi’s cheek. “I’m just here because I can be. Whatever comes as a repercussion is entirely on you.”

He tries to turn his head away, but Eren won’t let him. “Liar.”

“Only when I feel like being.”

Unceremoniously, Levi gets pulled out of the tub.

He stumbles over wobbly legs and wet feet and is given no time to catch his balance, Eren grabbing him by the wrist and hauling him towards the bedroom with haste.

Levi doesn’t have to ask why he’s doing this.

He goes willingly, resigned to the fact that he deserves whatever will be done to him, be it consensual or not. Not that he’s ever considered this consensual to begin with. Fucking a borrowed face crosses all sorts of sick and twisted lines, and yet he can’t find the strength to put a stop to it. He refuses to burn this house down. If he does, he might as well burn himself with it.

The darkness of his room churns blacker when he’s pushed onto the bed, chest against the mattress and face buried in the pillow. He tenses because he can’t see a damn thing but he feels Eren’s presence move around, rummaging for something. He, on the other hand, doesn’t bother moving a muscle. There’s nowhere to run.

A chill runs over his wet skin. The heater isn’t high enough.

Levi stiffens when a cold kiss is pressed to the center of his back.

“Gods are often jealous beings,” Eren whispers sultrily into Levi’s hair. “They don’t like sharing their glory or their offerings.” Teeth scrape along his shoulder blades, and then soothing lips caress the burning path. “Why do you worship him the way you do?”

Levi brings up his arms, clutching onto the pillow and shutting his eyes. “I worship nobody.”

“You kiss the ground he walks on.” The words are a dangerous hiss, as if Levi has just insulted him. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“I don’t know. A soul, maybe.”

“Quit being a smartass.”

“Are you talking about whatever you are or about Eren?”

The question makes the creature above him stop and think. “There is no difference.”

“Erwin would kiss Eren’s knuckles every night he came home from work,” Levi says. “The three of us were equals regardless of the decisions we made. Nobody worshipped anybody. We were just three assholes who happened to fall in love and that was that.”

“That’s a very intriguing skill to have.” Eren plops down onto Levi’s body as if he were a body pillow. “But that’s the thing about gods. They’re always so radiant and beautiful, you tend to get blinded.”

Levi sighs into the pillow. “There was nothing wrong about us.”

“You know,” Eren begins, but stops. He shifts his weight on top of Levi. “For being so resolute you have a severe tendency to turn a blind eye.”

Levi gasps before he can stop himself, squeezing his eyes shut when Eren pushes a dry finger into him.

“That’s the thing about being a big shot CEO,” Eren continues, mercilessly driving in. “Sure, money can’t buy happiness but it’s a pretty good start. Believe me, I’ve looked into the hearts of far too many people to know this by now.”

Gritting his teeth, Levi tries desperately to relax his body but fails miserably. Eren is already pulling out, squeezing his left butt cheek, and shoving in two fingers this time.

“Smith is a man of ambition. Pride is his sin, which fuels his lust and his greed most beautifully.” Both fingers curve, but all Levi finds is burning discomfort. “Like most humans, he’s a damned contradiction. Part god and monster.”

“Is this going anywhere?” Levi spits out, trying to crawl away from the intrusion.

Eren stops, pulling out and sighing with exasperation. “How exactly can you find this enjoyable?”

The situation is so absurd, Levi wants to roll over and cry. “Try some fucking lube, you dumb piece of shit.”

“Oh.”

The bed shifts, but he hears no footsteps. “Bedside table, top drawer,” Levi says, making sure that his aggravation is loud and clear.

Eren grumbles as he looks for it, finds it, and retakes his position above Levi.

Bottle cap popped, the lube is drizzled directly onto Levi’s ass. He’s grateful that he’s already cold, or else the noise he would have made would be too embarrassing to fathom.

The fingers are back – this time three – and it still hurts like a bitch. This thing has no real knowledge of what it’s doing, and that makes a ball of acid form in Levi’s gut. The situation can’t possibly get any worse, even when a fourth finger is inserted without warning.

Levi digs his nails into the pillow and swallows whatever complaint he has, still struggling to relax his muscles. The sooner this is over, the better. Let the thing take what it wants and maybe, just maybe, he will be able to catch a breath afterwards.

Eren’s hard cock clumsily rubs itself against the top of his thigh, his fingers pumping in and out of Levi with no rhyme or rhythm. He’s imitating what he’s seen, wherever that may have been, but he’s doing it so crudely it’s obscene.

Although short-lived, Levi whines with relief when Eren removes his fingers. More lube is drizzled onto him, and what comes next is obvious.

Levi doesn’t ask him to be gentle; he will insult no one with the request. He’ll take it and he’ll handle it, because this thing is not his husband and neither is it Erwin. This thing is just an abomination and Levi will not waste his time pretending to court it.

Even though a part of him screams that he wants to.

Eren grabs Levi by the hips and flips him onto his back with ease. “Fuck, look at that cock,” Eren says, awed. “Maybe I should eat it up again rather than fuck you.”

Levi stares at him head-on without a hint of shame. “Do what you want. I don’t give a shit.”

“Bet you do.” A hand wraps itself around Levi’s still-limp cock and slowly begins pumping it. “Bet you want me to do all sorts of things to you.”

Growing hard in Eren’s hand, Levi decides on glaring at the ceiling.

Eren quickly strokes his cock, awkwardly twisting his wrist in an attempt for variety but failing. But it doesn’t matter how bad it is because Levi is swelling in his grasp, precome beading at his tip. The roughness of it feels wrong yet oddly satisfying, and he hates himself all the more for it.

His hips involuntarily buck up, asking for more.

“Told you.”

“Fuck off.”

“Not a nice thing to say to someone with your dick in their hands.”

Levi snarls at him. “Hurry up.”

With a sigh, Eren humors him.

His legs are lifted to properly accommodate Eren, wrapping them around his hips as he angles himself. Head of his cock pressed flush against Levi’s hole, he stops to look down at him with a grin.

Levi grips the bed sheets by his side.

It isn’t like he’s never taken a dick with limited preparation or minimal lube. On more than one occasion, he and Erwin have gotten desperate, forsaking comfort in the suffocating need to get off. The rawness and soreness that followed had been amazing. But this is nothing like that. This is Eren – _this thing_ – claiming what he thinks belongs to him.

Hands clawing at whatever they can reach, Levi manages to separate his thoughts from the now. He can probably stop him if he wants to, but it’s the fear of being unable to that keeps him from trying. So Levi will stay here, on his bed, slack against his mattress.

For some ridiculous reason, an old memory begins to mock him.

Erwin’s office, mid-July.

The visuals are just as hazy as the office had been, the ambient lighting fogged by the thick cloud of smoke that swirls from the end of their shared blunt.

Sex, drugs, rock and roll. That’s what it had been for Levi during his youth, what he had brought into adulthood – what had first drawn Erwin in. A rolling stone with a crass attitude who had a surprisingly strong affection towards troubled youngsters. But Levi changed for Eren’s sake. He put away the white powder that often decorated his nose, and threw out his special spoon and lighter.

That day in the office, however, things escalated.

For years he felt terrible, telling himself that he had coerced Eren into having sex with Erwin, that he was a monster for doing so – but Eren had just laughed in his face and punched his side. Eren claimed that his jealousy was only born out of confusion and frustration. He hadn’t been sure if he wanted to kill him or fuck him and, had it not been for Levi’s little nudge, Eren never would have experienced the wonder of a two for one.

It still eats at him, though. All three of them had been higher than the Empire State. A completely naked Eren had ridden a fully dressed Erwin on his office floor. Eren had gotten bent over his desk, maneuvered onto all fours, fucked so thoroughly and roughly and the goddamned kid had enjoyed every fucking second of it.

Levi sat on Erwin’s nice officer chair, jacking his dick while wiping blood and cocaine from under his nose.

It was madness, but it was their beginning.

Neither of them really ever talked about it again. When asked, their first time happened in Erwin’s living room, on the plush rug in front of his fireplace. Cozy, warm, and perfectly romantic with their wine and their cuddles.

A particularly hard thrust jars Levi away from the memory.

He glares up at Eren and is stunned by what he sees on his face. Levi isn’t a man of many words, and therefore he has none to describe the expression that Eren is wearing. Anger coupled with regret, maybe. Or grief. Whatever it is, it makes the tension bleed out of him.

Eren has stopped moving and is slowly shaking his head. He looks off to the side and mutters an “I’m sorry” that is so low, Levi wouldn’t have caught it if he weren’t looking directly at him. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

Levi keeps staring him. “Yes it was.”

Eren grits his teeth. “I wasn’t exactly hugged as a child.”

“Ask me if I give a shit. Go ahead.”

“You know, I like when you’re a complete asshole,” Eren says, touching his fingertips to Levi’s chest and slowly dragging them down. He gives his hips a particularly hard thrust that makes Levi groan. “Actually, I really…”

“What?”

Frowning, Eren leans back on his haunches and slips out. “This is annoying,” he says, softly caressing Levi’s legs. “This should be easier.”

A knot forms in Levi’s throat.

If there is anything he has learned, it’s that this thing is a con. The ability it has to feign emotion is beyond description, and its lies can cripple even the most headstrong of people. It can look for sympathy all it wants but Levi isn’t going to give it to it.

_However…_

“Being a human isn’t exactly easy,” Levi says, reaching out a hand. Eren looks at it with distrust but eventually leans into the open palm. “Thirty something years and I’m still trying to get my bearings.”

Grayish eyes bore into Levi’s own, carefully trying to gauge him. “Is this why I can sway you so easily?”

Levi shrugs, drags his thumb along Eren’s cheekbone. “The same way opinions change.”

“If you’re trying to fool me—”

“We’re all liars here,” Levi interrupts with a sly lift of an eyebrow. “You just have to figure out which is the truth.”

Eren’s smile is genuine. “Here you go, making me second guess a lifetime’s worth of madness.”

Without warning, Levi flips them over on the bed.

He keeps Eren pinned as he mounts himself on his cock with a wry laugh that’s hoarse to his own ears. Levi gyrates his hips, making sure that he’s well seated.

“You’d be surprised by the shit I can make you do if I wanted,” Levi says, adjusting his position just enough to bounce if he wants to. If there’s one thing life has taught him, is to tease until he gets what he wants.

Eren’s mouth is slightly open, half with surprise and half with pleasure when Levi moves on top of him. “You’re playing dirty.”

“Would you prefer it any other way?”

“No.”

“Then shut the fuck up and fuck me like you mean it.”

Clammy hands slither up Levi’s thighs, one of them wrapping around his cock and giving it a harsh squeeze. Eren pushes up onto his elbow and is somehow able to balance himself without toppling backwards. Lips pushed into a pout, Levi leans down to kiss them.

“I can still see into you,” Eren whispers against Levi’s mouth. “Always remember that I’m one step ahead of you. Don’t confuse my fondness of you for undeserved trust.”

“A dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest.”

“Honestly.” Eren bites his bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth. He laughs, the sound deep in his chest. “The effort is appreciated.”

The hand holding Levi’s cock begins to stroke, fingers tightening enough to make him shiver. A thumb gingerly glides down the underside.

“We take what we can get,” Levi grits out, bucking into the fist. The cold friction is an odd mixture, but it only serves to make his hairs stand on end and nipples peak. It feels surprisingly good.

Eren places his mouth to Levi’s collarbones, sucking bruises and scraping his canines along the jut of bone. Both of his hands move to Levi’s ass and, without warning, pull him down.

Levi’s head snaps back without his permission, a loud whine spilling from his mouth.

He’s achingly hard.

“Do you get off on riding people who are bad for your health?” Eren asks, looking up at Levi with a hint of amorous awe.

Levi tangles a hand in Eren’s hair and tugs it hard enough to make him wince. “Only when they wear the face of my dead husband.”

Eren snaps his hips up, and Levi’s body jerks with the force of it, a shaky moan bleeding out.

“Wouldn’t that make Erwin a league all his own?”

Annoyed that they’re still talking, Levi narrows his eyes towards him. “Just shut up.” Finding purchase, he decides on fucking himself if Eren insists on spewing riddles. “I’m rock hard, my ass is fucking starving for it and you’re just—”

“It never crossed your mind, did it?”

Levi growls, slamming their mouths together as he begins to bounce on Eren’s lap. He doesn’t have much room to move, but it’s enough to get that dick moving inside of him. That fat, long and sinfully delicious dick.

Eren flips them again, pinning Levi with his full weight. He hooks a hand under his knee and hoists it up, scrambles for a better angle. With a single push, he’s buried balls deep inside of him.

“It has, hasn’t it?” Eren purrs, bending his leg enough to be uncomfortable, but Levi doesn’t complain. He’s too desperate for it. “Here you’ve been taking a bullet for him when he’s the triggerman.”

_Good boys don’t become CEOs._

Sneering, Levi rakes his nails up Eren’s back. He’s not going to think about that. He’s not even going to entertain the thought of Erwin being a murderer. A conniving bastard? Maybe. But not a killer. That’s all Levi.

Eren moans and arches into Levi’s hands, apparently enjoying the sting. “I can’t break, Levi. So go ahead and do your worst.”

And he does.

Levi shamefully spreads his legs to accommodate him like a proper slut would, and lifts up his ass for easier access. He opens himself up to Eren’s feverish clawing, to the heated sucking and biting of his skin. Levi is unable to hold back the litany of obscenities that fall from his mouth, crying out like it’s the lay of a lifetime.

He hates that this thing fucks with the same intensity that Eren used to: all blind hunger and dangerously unchecked violence. The snap of his hips, the sound of balls hitting his ass, the grunts, the whines, the breathless and broken moans.

Eren places his forehead on Levi’s chest as he quickens his thrusts, pushing in and out without grace or skill. This thing is nothing but an animal thirsty to be mated and hell if Levi can stop him. He can’t, and he won’t, because he doesn’t want to. Levi can’t even call this punishment anymore, not when he wants to get on all fours with his ass up.

Sweat slicks their bodies.

“I’ll sit you on a throne,” Eren says against the skin of his chest, the jab of his hips unrelenting. “Worship every inch of your body, physical or not.”

Through the haze of sex, Levi hears the jumbled words. They’re words spoken in the heat of the moment by some overwhelmed monster that has never done this before, but Levi won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. The praise, the _veneration_ in his tone is making his cock jerk.

“Give me what I want,” Levi tries, digging his nails into Eren’s ass and urging him to go faster and deeper.

He waits for it because it’s right there, gleaming in milky eyes. Eren’s mouth is moving, muttering words in a language that chills Levi to the bone.

“Anything,” he finally gasps out, that last syllable twisting into a sound torn between a grunt and a whine. “I’ll give you anything you want.”


	15. Breathless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather "slow" chapter while things start heating up in the back-lot. Another newcomer shows up and things get rather intense, so that might be entertaining to some. (I hope.)
> 
> There's been [another lovely piece of art](http://zipra.tumblr.com/post/92979197370/have-some-half-drunk-fic-fanart-got-house-of) inspired by the fic, so be sure to stop by and check it out. ♥
> 
> As usual, a special shout-out to all you lovely people who have left kudos, reviews and the like! Those are always a great thing to wake up to, let me tell ya.
> 
> Lastly, I'm sure I've mentioned this before but you can find me on tumblr at [jaegersaurus](http://jaegersaurus.tumblr.com/). I also track/use the tag _fic: house of echoes_ for anyone who wants to keep updated on new chapters, ficlets that don't make it into the actual story, and random headcanons for the echo!verse.
> 
> Enjoy.

Cigarette perched between his lips, Levi knocks on the front door.

With no phone, barely any gas in his car and the first shirt he pulled out of his closet, he drove three hours to the next state over. He had made the mental note to talk to someone open-minded enough to lend him an ear, and here he is. By all means this could be the worst idea he’s gotten in a while, but something is something and Armin Arlert has always exceeded Levi’s expectations.

“Be right out!”

Levi looks down at the doorknob before turning to face the bustling street.

Armin lives in a quaint neighborhood that belongs on the cover of a family magazine. Complete with white picket fences and apple trees in the front lawns, Levi is willing to bet that the property must have cost a small fortune. There are kids running and shouting up and down the street with sunshine bouncing off their tiny heads, uncaring for the small chill that still lingers in the breeze.

Things would have been bizarrely different had he and Erwin purchased here instead of the Lane, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that. The reality of things has embedded itself so deeply into his subconscious that he experiences genuine anxiety at the thought of having anything altered.

Lowering the cigarette, Levi exhales the smoke through his nose.

The door opens, and he’s greeted by a ball of goddamned sunshine.

“Levi,” Armin says, blinking several times as if making sure that he isn’t a mirage. “Wow, I haven’t seen you in ages.” His smile is blinding and warm. “Please, come on in.” But before Levi can take a step, Armin holds up a hand. “No smoking. There’s a dish on the railing.”

Knowing better than to argue with him, Levi stubs out the cigarette and walks inside.

Much like the world outside, the interior of the house is spacious yet cluttered. Curtains are pulled and tied to the side, letting the sunlight in and cover the extensive collections of books and antiques of all sorts.

“I thought you quit smoking,” Armin calls from the kitchen for Levi to follow his voice.

“I did.”

“Then something is bothering you.” He waves a hand, gesturing for Levi to sit at the table. “Iced tea or lemonade?”

Taking a seat on the uncomfortably tall chair, Levi shrugs. “Whichever is fine.”

Armin still brews his own iced tea, keeping it sealed in refrigerated thermoses. None of that brand stuff.

He serves two tall glasses and places them on the dining room table. “Okay, so, what brings you here?”

Always straight to the point. No use in dillydallying.

Unsure of how to say it, Levi stalls by looking at the glass. It’s clean enough so there’s really nothing to point out. Armin understands however, and doesn’t push him to talk. He, better than a lot of people, knows how he and Eren tick.

“I need information on something,” Levi says, pulling his glass closer and drumming his fingertips against the wooden tabletop. “Something that may be in your area of expertise.”

Armin nods, but not before turning to look at the clock above the stove. “Go ahead and ask.”

“Look, if it’s a bad time—”

“No, not at all!” Armin’s chuckle is nervous. He tucks several locks of hair that have escaped from his ponytail behind his ear. “I have a seminar in three hours and I wasn’t expecting any company today. You can come with, if you want. Although I doubt it will interest you, unless you have a fondness for the politics of Ancient Egypt I don’t know about.”

“That was more Eren’s thing.”

The look Armin gives him is devastating.

Too-big blue eyes fall to the table, a wobbly smile forcing itself into place. “That it was.” He pushes his glasses up his nose. “How are you, Levi? Really?”

Levi’s shoulders sink when the stiff atmosphere turns friendlier, into something familiar he can recognize. Armin, Eren and Mikasa grew up together, which means that Levi had to deal with all three of them more often than not. Contrary to Mikasa’s strong attitude, Armin was always soft-spoken and overly polite.

That changed when Eren died, of course. They no longer had any sort of connection, so there was no real reason for them to keep in contact. He’s Eren’s friend, not his.

“Alive and kicking.” Levi looks towards the living room when movement catches his eye. He sees nothing but the television broadcasting the lunchtime news. “You?”

“Great.” The word is too fast and too stiff to be honest. “Everything’s great.”

“Whoa, Ar tied the knot?” Levi takes another peek, and this time he notices Eren touching things on the shelves that shouldn’t be touched. They look far too expensive to even be breathed on. “What the hell? To _Annie?_ Weren’t he and Jean banging?”

On instinct, Levi looks down at Armin’s hand. Granted, there’s a wedding band on his finger. “I don’t doubt it,” Levi says, gesturing towards it.

Armin gives him a small smile, tapping the ring against the glass. “We tried getting in contact with you, but the number kept saying it was disconnected. Are you still in the apartment?”

“I moved out a couple of months ago. It…” The sentence drops of its own accord, unknowing how to finish.

“We all miss him,” Armin says, softly, as if to a child. “I can’t begin to fathom how hard this must be for you, even if it’s been a long time.”

Levi clears his throat, not wanting to deal with emotional situations at the moment. “Time moves on. Nothing to do but mourn the dead and push onward.”

“That’s very true.” He doesn’t sound like he means that.

Before either of them can continue, Armin’s phone rings.

“Just a second,” he says, and walks deeper into the house when he answers it.

In the living room, Eren is still walking around in circles.

“Gotta say that I’m impressed.” He walks into the dining room holding what looks to be a wooden egg. “These haven’t been around in a very long time. Wood tends to rot pretty quickly, which means he probably found this sealed up in a tomb. He does his job well.”

“You’re going to break it,” Levi says, giving him a dirty look. “Put it back.”

“No.” For something of unfathomable mystery, the thing sure is petulant. “I like it. This dates back to at least Alexandria.”

Levi sighs. “What are you even doing here?” The idea had been to leave Erwin and Eren behind without telling them a thing, but apparently Eren is capable of looking into Levi’s head.

Once upon a time, Levi recalls binging on horror movies with a recurring religious theme. Names hold authority, and in a desperate attempt to regain control of this messed up situation, Levi _needs_ to know what to call this thing.

Armin may be no expert in the occult, but as an archeology professor, the guy knows a thing or two about legends and myths from the four corners of the globe. Just maybe there might be something that can give Levi some sort of heading, a hint of terra firma.

“Curious as to why you snuck out without waking Erwin. Plus, I haven’t seen Armin in ages.”

Levi waits.

“And because I want to see you make a fool of yourself when you ask an esteemed archeologist his thoughts on ghosts.” _Great._ “I am insulted that you think I’m some sort of demon.” He throws up the egg and catches it, each descent making Levi’s stomach drop. “Spit on my shoes, why don’t you?”

“Somebody has to give me answers.” Levi takes a swig of his iced tea and hums at how good it tastes. “For all I know, the reason you’re not telling me what you are is because it’s something ridiculous – like an elf.” He snorts at his own words, but the pop of light bulbs overhead stops him dead.

Levi’s hands grip the edge of the table when a crushing pressure is set around his windpipe and he inhales, but no air comes in. His eyes widen while trying to keep his panic contained, but his lungs struggle to the point where pain blooms in his chest.

Every trace of humor and good nature vacates Eren’s face, leaving him standing in the space between the living room and dining room like a statue. In an instant, Levi can’t see a human face, but a distortion of a rancid nightmare.

He doesn’t realize that he’s gotten to his feet, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt because it’s the only thing he can do. He can’t fucking breathe and he can’t think, all he knows is that it burns and it hurts and he wants it to stop.

“Levi, what—!” Armin reenters the room and drops the phone, rushing to his side. He pushes at Levi’s shoulders until he has his back straight against the wall and he’s pushing at this chest, almost rhythmically. “I need you to calm down, okay? Shut your eyes and listen to me, all right? Go ahead.”

Levi can’t shut his eyes. He can’t look away from the thing gazing at him with such righteous wrath he fears his bones might catch fire.

“Nothing can hurt you here,” Armin says, placing both his palms over Levi’s chest. He doesn’t push anymore, but mimics the movement of inhales and exhales. “I promise. Whatever it is, I need you to block it out and listen to me instead. If you calm down, I can give you something to ease your breathing but you have to reign yourself in, Levi. Please.”

His voice is reminiscent of a warm blanket on a cold day. It’s peaceful, gentle, and above all, understanding.

“Listen to my voice and let it bring you down. Come on, deep breath.” Nothing. “Levi!” He opens his mouth, but not even a sound. “I know it’s difficult. Believe me, I know, but you have to take control. You’re stronger than this. Breathe with me, okay? Come on.”

The pressure suddenly lifts, and Levi breathes in so quickly he sways on the spot. Armin keeps him pinned, slowly coaxing him into controlling his breathing. He talks and talks, his voice not lifting in volume or urgency, but serving as a tool to calm his nerves.

“I’m okay,” Levi coughs out; he wheezes. “I’m fine.”

He places a hand on Armin’s shoulder, but he moves back for entirely different reasons. His eyes are so wide Levi thinks they’ll pop out of their sockets, and alarm bells go off in his head.

“Your neck,” Armin whispers, bringing up a hand to his own. “Where did that come from?”

Head against the wall, Levi tips it up and continues to suck in breath after breath. So much for keeping a low profile. “Rash. It’s just a rash.”

Of course Armin isn’t going to buy it, he’s much too perceptive.

“How long have you been getting these attacks? Do you have a pump?”

Levi looks at him and shakes his head. “I’m not asthmatic.”

“Panic attacks?” The question is hesitant, but Armin doesn’t pry. He doesn’t have to. “I have a recliner in the living room if you want to sit down.”

Pushing away from the wall, Levi shakes his head. Eren is still looking at him, but his face has gone eerily blank. “Outside.”

Armin doesn’t hesitate, grabbing his arm and escorting him out the front door and into the blissful sunlight. A heaviness Levi hadn’t noticed lifts itself off his shoulders as he sits on the swing, heart racing in his chest.

Armin pulls up a lawn chair and sits in front of him, elbows on his knees as he carefully studies Levi’s face. No words are necessary because Armin’s sharpness rivals Erwin’s own. Nothing gets past him, and if puzzle pieces are missing, he’ll go to the ends of the earth to find them.

“Do you need a hospital? Anything?” Levi shakes his head. “This isn’t normal.”

Burying a snide remark, Levi breathes in deep. “I’ve been getting them sporadically,” he lies. “Not sure if they’re panic attacks or not. I don’t exactly live a stress-free life.”

“This is severe. You really should get it checked,” he says while gesturing to his own neck. “Especially if you’re living alone.”

A ball latches itself onto his throat, upsetting the previous scratchiness to the point of coughing. “Nothing I can’t handle.” With shaking hands, he pats his jeans in search for his pack of cigarettes. “May I?”

“Wouldn’t that be a bad idea?”

“Yes or no.”

“Feel free to.”

Levi fishes out the pack and pops one into his mouth. “I won’t take up much of your time,” he says. He lights up the cigarette and pockets the lighter again. One deep intake and a cough later, he settles back into the swing. “You’re a busy man.”

Frowning, Armin sits up. He removes his hair tie in order to better pick up his hair and tie it again, getting all the free strands out his face. His bangs end just above his glasses. It’s a nervous twitch Levi instantly recognizes. Eren would eat his nails, and Armin would play with his hair.

“There’s no hurry. You’re my friend, after all.”

Levi lowers his cigarette and looks off towards the street. The kids are no longer there.

“I really don’t know how to put this.”

“You can start by putting it as simple as possible,” Armin says with a soft laugh. “No judgment here.”

“Do you believe in ghosts?” he asks, refusing to look away from the street. He curses that his ears have become warm with embarrassment.

“I’m not an expert on the supernatural, Levi.” He’s never heard Armin sound so incredulous.

“But you know your history.”

Armin nods his head, catching on to what he means. “Any mythos in specific you’re interested in? Scandinavian, Asian, African?”

Levi doesn’t answer right away because he doesn’t have the slightest idea.

“Or do you mean something more… mainstream, so to speak?” Armin’s words are careful, just as intense as his stare. “Judeo-Christian? Biblical. Demons?”

“I don’t believe in any of this crap,” Levi says defensively, because he can read the tone of voice he’s being spoken to in.

“Obviously you don’t,” he says with a smile that reaches his eyes. “My interest in religions all around the world doesn’t necessarily suggest that I practice any of them. But something _is_ bothering you.”

“My taxes.”

“You keep looking at the door.”

Levi glares at him but doesn’t reply.

Armin holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Can you describe what it is you want to know about? I’ll try my best to identify it.”

This is too easy.

Everyone continues to accept it too easily and Levi is beginning to think that they don’t believe him after all. All they are doing is accepting the deranged mumbles of a man gone mad with grief, hoping to ease his suffering.

However, he _can_ use this to his advantage.

“It can take the form of a person,” he begins, trying to solidify Eren’s most recognizable traits.

“Someone you know?”

“Yes,” he says uncomfortably before taking another drag. “It can touch and move things, become… tangible.” It tastes sour on his tongue. “It isn’t specifically attached to the house—”

“Wait, so it’s a haunting?”

“Don’t interrupt me,” Levi snaps before he can think better of it. He regrets it almost immediately when he sees Armin straighten up, his smile turning into something stale. He isn’t a kid anymore, and by no means does he have to put up with Levi’s shit. “I’m sorry.”

“Go ahead.”

He thinks, keeping his attention on the door. “Nightmares of really tall things, different animals—”

“What kind of animals?” Leave it to him to not be fazed by Levi.

“A deer,” he says with certainty. “Humanoid, at times. And also dogs or wolves; I can’t really tell the difference.”

“Any snakes? Horses?”

“No, not really.”

Armin encases his chin in his hand. “Please don’t be offended by what I’m about to ask.”

“Erwin wants me to see a shrink,” Levi says, knowing full well where Armin is going. “I’m not taking any medication, and I’m clean from everything else.”

“Stress and anxiety can cause a myriad of trouble. Lucid dreaming, sleep paralysis, you name it. It may seem real, you can be held at gunpoint and you will still look them in the eye and say that it’s real, but it’s not.”

“Humor me for a hot second,” he says, holding up a hand. “I’ll get help, okay, I’ll do it. But is there anything you can tell about this thing? Anything at all.”

“Look, I…” Armin sits back again, crossing both his arms and legs. “Animals are often paired up with ancient spiritual beliefs, yes. Let’s take the North American buffalo for one. The dragon, the goat, the list goes on – but deer? Although, canines I understand.”

Standing up, he walks over to the plants he has hanging from the wooden beams. He adjusts the colorful flowers and picks out the invading weeds.

“Is it a shapeshifter?”

“He isn’t a were… deer.” Well that sounds stupid.

Armin snorts. “A chimera, maybe. A mixture of animals all gathered into a single entity.”

“A chimera,” Levi repeats, testing the word.

“Still wrong,” Eren says, making him go rigid on the spot.

“In the Iliad, she was described as a creature that breathed fire, the harbinger of storms and shipwrecks. Part lion, snake, and goat,” Armin continues. “The museum has an exhibit on Greek mythology. If it’ll set your mind at ease, you’re welcome to look around while I give the seminar. The area is currently closed to the public, but I’m sure I can get you in.”

It doesn’t sound right. There isn’t enough substantial evidence for Levi to point and say _‘that’s it’_ , and he’s starting to think that this visit was a waste of his time.

But something is something, because remaining stationary eats away at him faster.

His eyes on Eren, Levi nods his head.

“I would really appreciate that.”

•••

They leave early in order to grab some lunch at a café located in the middle of downtown.

Equal parts similar and different to the city Levi calls his second home, he finds the place just as charming as the neighborhood Armin lives in. Compact and bustling with life, it’s easy to get lost in the maze of streets and alleys.

Vendors sell interesting trinkets Levi has never seen before, and there are stores he can’t even name with things like broken lamps on display. It’s all very bizarre, even by Levi’s standards.

The café is tiny so he opts on taking a table outside, and asks Armin to order whatever he recommends. While he would normally turn down a meal while out of the house, his stomach keeps reminding him that he has to eat whether he wants to or not.

“Is there anything you’re allergic to?”

Levi looks at Armin with a frown. Not that the question is an odd one, but it is strange to hear someone ask about such a thing. Usually people just point it out whenever they get their hands on a menu. “Strawberries.”

Armin’s eyes widen as if he’s just been insulted. “You’re allergic to strawberries? That’s absurd.”

“I didn’t choose to be.” Sitting down on an ornate wrought iron chair, Levi zips up his jacket and rubs his hands together. “That’s it.”

He watches Armin nod and walk into the small building, greeting an elderly woman as he does.

This is going smoother than he expected, if he leaves out the part where Eren attempted to strangle him without the use of his hands. The skepticism is naked on Armin’s face but all Levi needs from him is too play along, to give him all the information he can, even if he’s thought of as a lunatic by the end of the day.

So far, nothing fits the bill. Levi doesn’t have much to go on to begin with, the entity wearing Eren’s face being too enigmatic despite its constant presence. Simply put, Levi can only call it a ghost. A powerful one, but a ghost nonetheless. There may be dozens, if not hundreds of creepy-crawlies with immense power, bringing him to square one. Not a damn thing stands out.

A chimera. Even if Eren mentioned Armin being wrong about that, he also said that he lies. He may as well be trying to cover his tracks, looking for a way to throw Levi off the right path. Maybe because Eren planted the seed of doubt, Levi feels that the name is indeed wrong. It doesn’t sound powerful enough. This thing feels bigger than that name.

Levi jolts upright when someone walks into his table.

“Whoa, sorry about that, bro,” says a young man while playfully shoving a younger woman away. “Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Their laughter is annoying and Levi gives them an impassive glare, hoping they’ll get the hint and just leave. But under a head of poorly-dyed purple hair is a pair of cerulean eyes that make Levi’s stomach twist.

Both individuals stumble into the café with a giggle fit, the girl punching his shoulder while saying something Levi doesn’t catch.

He doesn’t move.

Levi remains stock still because the mere sight of those eyes light a fire against the soles of his feet. The anger doesn’t gradually grow, it just booms into existence. Just like flipping a switch, Levi is keenly aware of the sudden shift in thought. He doesn’t want to control the urge, much less clamp down on the gruesome ideas that tickle his fancy.

Unfortunately for him, it’s the lunchtime rush. Levi isn’t stupid enough to get his hands dirty where everyone can see.

That doesn’t mean he’ll let the person get away with it. He doesn’t deserve those eyes.

“I hope you like tuna.” Armin’s voice cuts through the haze, but it doesn’t dispel it completely. “This place sells the best tuna sandwich, I can guarantee it. And their lattes are to die for.”

A sleek porcelain plate is placed in front of him, along with a small cube filled with french fries.

“Thank you,” Levi says, having lost his appetite. He eats for the sake of not being rude.

Taking a seat and pulling it closer to the table, Armin smiles. “I’ve been meaning to ask you a personal question.” He places a napkin over his lap and pushes his glasses up his nose. “May I?”

“You bought me lunch. Go ahead.”

“I know you and Erwin have a complicated relationship, but I was wondering if you… well… if you put yourself out there again.”

Of everything that crossed Levi’s mind, that definitely wasn’t one of them. He steadily looks at Armin, who is conveniently wrapped up in his sandwich to notice it. “No,” he says, opening two packets of sugar and pouring it into his coffee mug. “My interest in dating waned after I got married.”

“Oh, well…” Armin laughs. “Quite obviously.”

Levi sips his drink and mentally compliments the barista. “You always were a terrible liar when you wanted to be.”

Armin stares at him with wide eyes. “I haven’t said anything.”

“But I can sense your intention from a mile away.”

Laughing, Armin pops a french fry into his mouth. “Maybe seeing someone can help you get your mind off this nonsense, yeah?”

“You’re married.” In all honesty, those are the first words that come to Levi’s mind. Armin can play it all he wants, but Levi knows him almost as well as he knows Mikasa. Eren hadn’t been the only one who tugged on his teenage dick to thoughts of Levi.

The proof lies in the way Armin’s fair skin turns redder than his cardigan.

“I’m so sorry. Oh god, I am so, _so_ sorry, I… It wasn’t my intention to…” The words die away as he buries his face in a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs. “No, that’s a lie.”

Levi involuntarily raises both his eyebrows.

Armin sighs out a muted laugh, one he hides behind the rim of his mug. “That was improper of me. I apologize.”

“I’m unsure whether to be insulted or elated.”

“That depends.” Another drink and Armin puts down his coffee. “I do love Annie, so please don’t think otherwise.”

“If it’s sex you want—”

“Don’t,” Armin interrupts, lifting a hand before pressing it to his face. “Don’t. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Levi had intended to offer up Erwin’s services, not his own, but he lets it go.

There’s a brief period that is spent eating in silence, and Levi doesn’t pretend that he’s unaware of the way Armin keeps stealing glances at him. He’s thinking, which means Levi will be put on the spot sooner rather than later.

“Would you really soil your marriage for a night with me?” It isn’t like Levi cares for things like decency and modesty. Curiosity is terrible.

Armin doesn’t answer right away. “I wouldn’t call it soiling.” He doesn’t look at Levi. “You of all people should know about things like polyamory.” At this, Armin finally meets his eyes. “Annie knows a couple.”

Levi takes it in stride. “Here’s to hoping your agreement is healthier than mine.”

“I see nothing wrong with the way you and Eren decided to live your lives. Erwin is a good man.”

Clenching his jaw, Levi’s attention returns to the couple from before.

They walk out with trays in hand and take a table a few feet from him, speaking in a more controlled tone of voice.

“I do, however, mind that Eren isn’t here to give me the consent,” Armin says with a sad smile. “I don’t have the heart to insult my best friend. Not when I know how much you meant to him.”

Levi turns back to Armin, his thirst momentarily forgotten. “For the longest time I thought you had feelings for him.”

“I love Eren,” he says, the strength with which he says so worth admiring. “Eren was my sun in the way Mikasa was my moon. _Is_ my moon, still.” At Levi’s troubled frown, Armin smiles. “Don’t confuse lust for feelings, Levi.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “All I want is a night with you, not a lifetime.”

Levi hates himself for considering it.

He won’t lie by saying that Armin is unattractive. He may have been as shaky as a leaf, too frightened to even speak up as a child. But now? Levi doesn’t know what to even think of him. His face is thin and angular, his build almost feminine. The long hair looks soft to the touch. However, it’s the eyes that will do anyone in. Hidden behind those glasses are eyes that promise the most blissful of torture.

It’s when Armin licks his lips that Levi clears his throat, surprised at himself for getting reeled in so easily. Eerily enough, Armin reminds him of Erwin. Their methods of seduction are uncannily similar.

“You won’t go through with it,” Levi says, taking a bite out of his sandwich. The tuna fish tastes sweet and the lettuce fresh and crisp. “Because Eren isn’t here to give you the green light.”

“Not that he would ever allow it.” Armin hums down into his drink. “He was so possessive… Honestly, I don’t know how the three of you managed to work it out.”

Levi doesn’t answer, unwilling to linger on that.

They eat their lunch while Armin carries the mostly one-sided conversation, Levi too distracted to contribute much longer. During that time, Levi is careful to keep his eyes on the couple a few tables down. The place is still too crowded, and there is nothing he can do.

Armin’s phone goes off.

He answers with the same bright disposition as always, but the grin weakens to a smile that is part relieved and part annoyed.

“I requested that hall three months ago, Marco. Can’t he reschedule?” He removes his glasses and places them on the table. “That’s nearly two hundred people that will need to change the date. And on such short notice.”

Levi covers what’s left of his sandwich with a napkin and gets to finishing off his coffee. Something tells him the impromptu trip is a no-go.

“Oh, all right. I’ll stop by the department and see what I can do. Thank you for calling.” He ends the call with a frown, placing the phone back in his pocket. “The seminar has been cancelled due to a scheduling conflict. Our secretary isn’t the most organized person out there, apparently.”

“Troublesome.”

“Understatement. The hall would have been full to capacity, too.”

“Can’t the other person reschedule?”

“The University of Alberta will be stopping by to demonstrate its newest discoveries on feathered dinosaurs,” he says with a mock smile, his tone sardonic. “Honestly, I could get more information on the internet, but since there are big shot names attached to the speakers, well. Dr. Grant is one of the guests. Quite obviously he trumps little ol’ Dr. Arlert.”

The name means nothing to Levi, knowing nothing about dinosaurs other than what he’s seen in movies.

“We could still visit the exhibit,” Armin adds, pushing away what’s left of his meal. “I need to report myself to the office and somehow persuade people to come another time.”

It’s the safest choice, Levi agrees. He should get in that car and drive to a place that can hold definitive answers to this sadistic riddle. The same way he stopped substance abuse, he needs to distance himself of the vicious cycle. Push away the product of his ruin.

The young couple gets up from the table and hug. She pats him on the shoulder and then kisses his chin. He rests the side of his head upon her hair, and Levi can see the sun reflected in his eyes.

By this point, the anger has vanished, leaving behind the bitter aftertaste of duty. It’s a terrifying thought, the one where he realizes that he’s grown desensitized over the course of several minutes. He’s okay with plunging in his knife as long as he eats himself on the inside, but growing apathetic at the hand if his barbarism is unforgivable.

_Respect the animals you hunt._

“Levi?” Armin says, reaching across the table and touching the back of his hand.

As discreetly as possible, Levi pulls away. “You go on ahead.”

Pulling away his hand with a soft smile, Armin nods his head in understanding. “Would you prefer waiting in the car? It won’t take me long.”

The young man presses his nose to the woman’s before turning his back to her and walking away.

“Your place isn’t that far from here,” Levi says, keeping his sight focused on the shrinking back. “I need some fresh air.”

Understanding what it is Levi means, Armin cants his head to the side. “No problem. There’s a key underneath the flowerpot. Do make yourself at home.”

Quickly getting to his feet, Levi gathers his plates. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

The troubled look on Armin’s face doesn’t go unnoticed, but right now there are more urgent things to tend to.

Placing the plates over the trash can, Levi slips his hands into his pockets. He casts a look over his shoulder and sees Armin fiddling with his phone, so he takes the opportunity to bleed into the rushing crowd.

He hurries enough to get a visual on the man and then falls back, careful to keep his stride casual.

Inside his boot, the sheath of his knife presses against his ankle. A good, solid presence that eases the roaring in his ears. He can do this, but how?

Levi is aware that he’ll draw attention to himself if he keeps looking back. When he’s sure that Armin won’t be following him, he walks faster, bringing him just several feet away from the man.

The problem still stands. He can’t kill him. Not here and not now. He also can’t have him keep those eyes that aren’t rightfully his.

Simple, really.

_Take the eyes but don’t kill him. Don’t let yourself be seen._

For a hint of a moment, Levi wonders if Eren will materialize beside him, but he doesn’t. This is all him and he can no longer hide behind the guise that some monster made him do it. He can no longer blame his grief. By this point, it’s premeditated, and there is no shaking that fundamental fact.

Levi has never believed in fate, but the sight of the man turning into an alley fills him with a wave of relief. Not only is it convenient, it is a sign. Truly he would much rather commit this sort of deed in a more controlled and cleaner environment, but until he can devise a way to do so, this will have to do. Sort of like how Jack the Ripper – the prestige of his time – had to sully his pristine gloves with sewer water and muck.

He isn’t like Jack the Ripper, however. That man had killed in the name of medical science. Levi isn’t killing, not really. All he’s doing is righting the cosmic wrongs the only way he can. If they don’t survive the purging of what does not belong to them, Levi will honor their memories.

Now he has a purpose. It may not be accepted among those around him, but it’s his truth. It’s his reason. At this point in time, this becomes his reason to wake up in the mornings.

This is adrenaline and euphoria.

This is the only sort of high that comes close to the ones he experienced while snorting cocaine off the dip of Erwin’s back, the only other joyful one that could compare to sucking in the sweet smoke Eren would blow into his mouth.

Head held high, Levi stands at the mouth of the alley and peers inside.

A person is walking down the fire escape, waving at the purple-haired man. He says something that is replied to with a laugh, and jumps those last couple of steps onto the wet pavement.

Leaning against the corner, Levi watches the exchange with disinterest.

A roll of money is swapped for a few packets of things Levi can’t see from this distance. Drugs, most likely, but he doesn’t care for it.

Both men are talking, setting dates as to when they should meet again, and a woman calls out a name from the top of the fire escape. The dealer yells out a slur, and the buyer laughs, flipping the woman off.

In this case, the asshole deserves getting his eyes gouged out.

Levi watches the dealer hop back onto the rickety ladder and amble his way up to his apartment.

This is his chance.

Purple Hair is taking stock of his purchase, sifting through the packets and sorting them into little heaps.

Levi pulls out the knife from his boot and takes a moment to hide behind a tower of empty boxes.

“Marlow?” Purple Hair calls out.

He waits.

Levi waits until the man gets his bearings and readies to leave, strategically standing in his blind spot. When he finally moves, Levi takes six steps – perfectly measured, perfectly silent – until he’s standing behind him.

The hilt of Levi’s knife is shoved into the man’s lower back, paralyzing him on the spot.

“We can do this quick and easy,” Levi says, not at all put off by how much taller the individual is. “Walk backwards until we’re a safe distance from the street. Look back and I’ll pull the fucking trigger.”

The man’s back goes rigid, the whimper that falls from his mouth an embarrassment. “Take what you want. I don’t have any money, but I got meth. Take it, sell it, do whatever you want, man, just don’t shoot.”

“Do what you’re told and I won’t have to.”

Another whimper, but this time Purple Hair goes. He stumbles back with each step he takes, hands held up in the air. He’s sobbing by this point, the pathetic punk.

“On your knees,” Levi says, easing his knife off the guy’s back. He grips his hair, making sure that he won’t turn his head.

Levi casts a quick look around, looking for something when he realizes that if he doesn’t kill him, his screaming will give them away. Whether he wants to or not, he will either have to let him go unharmed, or knock him out.

“Do you want me to empty out my pockets? I’ll empty out my pockets. I will. No funny business, I swear.”

“Shut up, you pathetic pig.”

“Please, man. I got a little boy waiting for me back home. He doesn’t have a mom. Have a fucking heart.”

Levi squeezes harder, making him grunt. “Say something else and I’ll slit your throat.”

“Unnecessary! I’ll give you anything you want! Credit card? Car keys? Anything, man!”

Lifting the fist wrapped around the hilt, Levi slams it against the back of the guy’s head. It doesn’t knock him out. He only sobs. Levi does it again, only to get the same result.

With a scoff, Levi gives him another hit. He loses count of the amount of blows he delivers, only stopping when the man falls forward, face slamming into the filthy floor. There’s blood staining his fingers, but he’ll deal with that later.

Levi checks for a pulse and, granted, he’s still alive.

Casting a look around to make sure that no one is watching, Levi flips the man onto his back.

He has no time to hesitate, not when there’s a good chance that he might get caught in the act.

Working as quickly as he can without risking getting any blood on his clothing, Levi squats down beside the head. He holds it at an angle that will make matters easier, the tip of the knife gently pressing against the eyelid.

The procedure is sloppy as he fumbles with both his holds, the head lolling and the hilt of the knife slipping due to the blood and sweat. He forces his hand to stop shaking because he can’t damage the eyes.

This sort of carving lacks the force of give. It isn’t as satisfying because there’s no sound of ripping meat. Here, his knife is soundless as it severs all nerves.

Whether he likes it or not, the tissue _will_ be damaged. Levi makes a mental note to purchase a proper tool for this sort of thing.

Lastly, Levi nudges a fingertip into the corner of the socket and with a gentle tug, pops out the eyes. He slices the optic nerve and gingerly places it on the ground beside him.

Repeating the steps, the second time is slightly easier.

The man is still out cold although he is still breathing, and Levi is forced to swallow down the urge to kill him. It will be too bloody, and he’s soiled his clothing enough.

Cutting off a chunk of the man’s shirt, Levi uses it to wipe off the excess gore and wrap his trophies so that no further harm will come to them. He gets to his feet, and tucks the small bundle inside his jacket.

Soundless and fairly quick, Levi takes pride in his work.

There is nothing he won’t be able to do with a little practice.

•••

Arriving at Armin’s house, Levi finds Eren sitting on the porch. No word or look is exchanged as he looks for the key, and Levi feels a weight deposited onto his shoulders.

Inside, he stands in the foyer and throws an uneasy look around him when the feeling of something being out of place settles in. Before having left for lunch, Armin had swept up the broken light bulbs, but there’s something bothering him still.

The picture frames have been turned upside down.

It isn’t his problem, so he makes a beeline for the bathroom.

Placing the bundle of fabric on the sink’s edge, he sheds his jacket and turns on the tap. He rinses off his hands as well as the borders of his sleeves, enough for the stains to be inconspicuous. Bar of soap in hand, he scrubs until his skin is raw, desperate to remove the essence of filth.

This is when it sinks in. This is the point where he drops, when the realization kicks him in the gut. He went about it so perfectly calm, as if he were filing a report rather than plucking someone’s eyes out.

At least the man is still alive, and that offers a sense of bitter solace.

But what if he had seen him out of the corner of his eye? What if he recognized his voice? All silly thoughts because Levi isn’t close to being one-of-a-kind. His physical appearance is so generic nobody would be able to pick him out of a crowd.

He hates that.

He loves the anonymity, but despises the idea of someone taking his glory.

Levi splashes water of his face, and nearly jumps out of his skin when the image of a woman appears in the mirror in front him.

He holds her gaze, assuming that this must be Annie.

Her face is unnervingly blank as she stares at his reflection, her eyes too big and vacant. She looks to be the opposite of everything Armin is, but Levi guesses he can understand. He, too, was Eren’s polar opposite. Who is he to judge?

She’s dressed in a smart suit, blonde hair done up in a bun, but other than that, Levi can’t read her. She doesn’t allow it. Her eyes don’t waver and only break away when she continues her path to wherever had been her destination before stumbling upon him.

Troubled by this, Levi hurries it along.

From the cabinet above the sink, Levi takes out a clean towel and dries himself off. The telltale signs of his crime have been washed away to the point where he feels confident about walking to his car without reeking of suspicion.

Once done, he hangs the towel up and zips the jacket closed, the soiled cloth once again tucked safely inside.

Originally he had intended on staying until Armin returned, and perhaps take him up on his previous offer since his blood is pumping a little too hot and a little too fast. But Annie’s presence is an all-around nuisance. The less people know about this makeshift… _affliction_ , the better.

Levi leaves the key on top of the counter and walks out of the house, silently shutting the door behind him.

Heaven knows when the next time he will see Armin would be, and he doesn’t quite care. He may have not gotten exactly what he came here for, but he’s heading out with a fairly pleasing prize.

For the time being, that is more than enough.

Levi doesn’t see Eren on the way to his car. Good. He takes the reprieve to linger on the thoughts of what he should do with his trophies. It wouldn’t do to go through all this trouble only to have them sealed in jars and hidden underneath his bed. Then again, these color eyes are meant for only him to see.

Also, he can’t exactly display them on his mantelpiece when Erwin spends most of his time in the house.

He will eventually figure something out, but in the meantime, the least he can do is honor the sacrifice the man with the purple hair has done.


	16. The Noose

The light of the afternoon sun seeps through the holes in the ceiling of the old abandoned warehouse, making the crumbling structure glisten in Levi’s eyes. Windowless walls are covered in graffiti, weeds break through the crack and chipped concrete, and steel I-beams stand haphazardly beside the columns they have collapsed against.

The place is a mess, too big and spacious and smelling of piss.

It is also perfect.

Levi pops the trunk and carefully pries open a box filled with glass jars of all shapes, sizes and colors. He picks one at random and carefully inspects it, taking in the grooves and barely-noticeable patterns along the wide neck. For the price, these really are a steal. Levi puts it back in the box.

He’s unsure about what possessed him to come in and look at this place. Not only is it off the highway, forcing him to take a route that is nearly impassible and threatens damage to the car’s rims, he’s probably trespassing as well. Regardless, he doubts anyone will be wandering about at this hour.

In his mind is nothing but half-formulated thoughts as he struggles with the choice of whether he should continue this or not. There may be a pair of eyes on the passenger seat, but he didn’t outright kill the man. Showing a level of humanity gives him some ground to hold on to. As close as he’s teetered to the edge, he hasn’t jumped from the high-dive just yet.

Standing here, Levi knows that he has to make the big decision.

The moment he gets in that car, he can drive home and request for Erwin to seek him professional help, finally admitting that he can no longer shoulder this storm by himself. Or, he can get this dumpster cleaned and suited up for the ludicrous purpose of exhibiting his trophies.

As much as he wants to, he can’t keep these trinkets scattered around his home.

Eren would pitch a fit if he were alive, walking into their apartment and finding bits and pieces of hunted animals mounted along the shelves.

_’Most people collect stamps, Levi. Why are there pig intestines on my bedside table?!’_

Although Eren would be enraged at just about everything Levi has done over the past couple of months. The severe disappointment that would be reflected on his face, the sheer thought of it alone, leaves Levi’s stomach in knots. Brashness and stubbornness aside, Eren was a tender person who gave more love than he had.

The realization makes Levi feel empty.

How could he even think for a fragment of a second that this thing is his Eren? The mere thought is an insult to his memory.

This only leaves more questions rather than answers, but at least something comes of it. Whatever happens, Levi isn’t afraid to take that thing down with him into the pits of Hell if he has to.

But.

_And there’s always a_ but, _isn’t there?_

That thing has crawled under his skin and consumed him in a fashion that has him at a loss for words. That thing threatens to kill him and he responds by getting humiliatingly turned on. Call it self-loathing or masochism, it’s sickening, but it is a solid fact he can’t shake.

Levi has accepted this monster as his punishment for crimes he did during his youth, but like every other thug who thinks they can take on the world, he chooses to open his arms and welcome it with a well-accented _fuck you_ and a crass attitude.

Even with the jacket on, the air churns colder. A well-known pressure crushes his chest, filling his head with paranoia and making his fingers buzz with anxiety.

The way this thing manifests has changed. The first time Eren showed up at his bedroom, wrapped in ratty bandages, there had been a breeze of kind sadness. Now there’s nothing but loathing.

Levi wonders if the real Eren has somehow been corrupted. He thinks back to his words, how he had said that it took a lot of effort to come see him. Levi remembers the fear in his milky eyes when he had removed his bandages.

If his theory is correct, then that means that all of this is completely Levi’s fault.

Eren had tried to warn him.

“Quit hiding,” Levi says, sitting on the bumper of the car and squeezing his hands into fists over his knees. “I know you’re there.”

A breeze rustles the stray leaves that have flown in from outside, but nothing else moves.

“I think it’s time I come to terms with this.” He picks at a thread that has gone loose along the seam of his jeans. “Doesn’t matter what you are, really. You won’t stop any sooner than I will.” Levi snorts, and it’s an ugly sound that burns his nose. “It’d be a lie to say that I don’t care whether you’re really him or not, but I’m done trying to put two and two together. I’m not the strategic mastermind, here.”

Something groans in the distance, and the noise if followed by a crash. A chunk of the ceiling falls and hits a discarded plank of zinc, creating a loud bang that doesn’t startle him.

“When you reach the point where you realize that you’re disappointed because you don’t rip a motherfucker’s heart out…” Levi lets the words fade out, his mouth hanging slightly open as the gears in his head animate the machine. “I was disappointed that I didn’t kill him. Leaving a job unfinished annoys the fuck out of me, so I guess this is no different.”

Jobs and chores are easier to do, too. Whatever messes are done can be cleaned up easily, and not compromise one’s good name in the face of the law.

He _can_ be careful. The way he chose not to kill Purple Hair because he grasped the risks is the same way he can choose how to go by his schemes.

All Levi needs is patience, just like hunting deer.

Watch, study, analyze, and act… – act… _acting_.

_Wear a mask so the faces won’t see you._

Like camouflage gear, Levi can blend into the surroundings and grant the illusion of safety to those undeserving.

It’s just so _easy_.

Far too easy.

What’s best is that one would suspect him of anything – the almost-hermit with a sour attitude who is grief-stricken and alone. The tidy one who won’t stoop low enough to drench his hands in blood. Too fastidious, too uptight, too professional, too human.

Sure there’s always the threat that Mikasa might catch on, that Erwin might talk, but those are insignificant. What’s the worst than can happen? Ward or electric chair, Levi will gladly take either.

The small things he lived for are now gone, so he can substitute them or quit altogether.

A tender touch for the sensation of warm blood, enamored whispers for the sound of ripping skin.

Maybe these aren’t a direct equivalent, but something is something and this alternate route quenches the emptiness in the back of his head where only the ghost of Eren resides.

“What’s the use of shoving eyeballs into glass jars if you don’t want others to see them?” Eren says, finally materializing by Levi’s side. “Why store them in an abandoned warehouse?”

“We gods are often jealous beings.”

The look of surprise on Eren’s face is something new to this creature, a look Levi hasn’t seen on that face for a while.

“This is an unexpected turn of events,” Eren says, scratching the back of his hand. He’s looking off towards the end of the warehouse with glossy eyes drowning in curiosity. “Now you fancy yourself a god?”

He doesn’t, but he might as well.

Levi isn’t shaken when Eren’s hand finds itself in his hair, squeezing hard enough to burn his scalp. Cold lips brush his, and the undeniable heat in Eren’s eyes ignites nothing below Levi’s belt.

“This is actually really exciting,” he says, placing the tip of his tongue between Levi’s sealed lips and forcefully pushing in.

Levi doesn’t bother pushing him away. He’s already lost this war.

“Look how far you’ve come.” Eren sucks Levi’s bottom lip into his mouth, and bites down without mercy. Skin breaks and it’s then that Levi winces, tasting blood on his tongue. “The things you’re willing to do… and for you rather than me. Self-care is always more important than what you can offer to others.”

The mockery of his tone does nothing to anger him.

Eren laughs. “The human who thinks himself a god. I’ll admit that I’m curious about that thought process but… never look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.”

Levi rests his hands over Eren’s back, holding him in place as he’s kissed.

He’ll do it. Levi will go through with it if only to bring this creature down from his high horse and into the mud.

His hands move to the front of Eren’s shirt and he uses his hold to shift his position, straddling Eren’s lap. Awkward and uncomfortable given that they’re sitting on the car bumper, trunk open, Levi still manages to grind down into the tent in Eren’s pants.

He swallows a gasp, wrapping himself around Eren’s body and pulling him close. Maybe this way some of Levi’s body heat will remain on him and he’ll feel warm again; give him the illusion of life.

Eren holds him, feverishly touching along his back until his hands come to rest over Levi’s ass in a possessive grip. He growls into the kiss, bucking up and claiming without hesitation.

Levi has a hard time accepting that this game, this dance of discordant lovers is what they’ve become.

Lovers in a detestable and abhorrent fashion.

So much so, that Levi clings to a single thought floating in the back of his head: an apology. “Fuck me,” is what he says, _orders_ this thing to do, while begging for forgiveness to the tender soul no longer inhabiting the form in front of him.

Levi will put Eren’s memory to rest because he doesn’t deserve to have his memory soiled by the impure things Levi fantasizes of doing.

“With pleasure,” Eren says, breathless and hoarse. “With plenty of fucking pleasure.”

•••

The suit Levi pulls out from his closet smells freshly laundered still. All he has to do is iron it.

His shoes are polished and socks are clean.

Ties are sorted out into colors. Five; one for every day of the week.

The Versace suitcase Erwin gave him as a gift rests over his bed with his unfinished reports neatly organized by date and region. In the inside pocket are his pens, paperclips, and a spare tie clip.

Personal organizer, USB flash drive, and his automatic Protech Walter Brend – a 4.5” drop point blade that fits comfortably in the palm of his hand. Fast, sturdy, and efficient – are placed neatly between the suede interior and the stack of papers.

He moves around his room on autopilot, all thoughts gone. No anger, no grief, no regret, no self-preservation. Levi now has a job to do but he needs to decide on how to go through with it. That can wait until later. Now, he has to take that first step into his own version of recovery.

Curtains shut and only the bedside lamp on, it’s difficult for him to make out the texture of his shirts.

Eren lounges on the bed in nothing but a pair of boxers and a tank top despite the coldness in the room, a book held above him. He pays Levi no heed.

The dead silence is a blessing, even if it may feel oppressing, like being trapped within one’s own head without escape.

It’s much like a nightmare, or a _sickness_ , better said. Levi feels sick. Not physically, but he understands that there is something fundamentally wrong with him. Maybe he should drop this crazy scheme and go knocking on the hospital’s door.

The opportunity is presented to him when Erwin walks into his room without knocking, and has the gall to look shocked upon seeing him.

Levi should open up his suitcase and give him his knife. He should end it before it gets worse.

“What’re you up to?” The question is innocent enough as he moves to lean against the doorframe, his arms crossing his massive chest. He smile is like a snake’s, barely there but deadly. “You seem lively.”

Rummaging through his closet when he can’t find the steam iron, Levi sits on the floor and folds his legs. He sniffs. _Dust._ He should probably dust the place.

“Figured I should get my ass up and get it over with.”

Erwin blinks, but his attempt to keep his face impassive fails. “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” Levi says, looking Erwin in the eye. “I’m going back to work.”

Even Eren lowers his book at this, laying on his side to better look at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I need to be around people again whether I like it or not.” Levi says this while turning his head away, unable to face Erwin with such a blatant lie. His words have a better chance of deceiving him rather than the look he may be trying to hide behind his eyes. “Maybe Auruo’s assholery might get my spirits up, or Gunther’s talk about sitcoms.”

“For once, I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” Erwin says sheepishly, walking into the room and sitting on the foot of Levi’s bed. “Are you really up for this? Just two days ago—”

“Yes,” Levi snaps. “Fuck knows what I’ll do if I stay locked up in these godforsaken walls.”

He can feel both sets of eyes boring into him, both just as expectant.

This is his choice because he feels undeserving of any sort of redemption. He’s hit rock bottom and the cliffs that surround him are sheer.

Might as well accept it and move on.

“Tomorrow,” he says, looking up at the clothes impeccably organized by type and color.

He averts his eyes from the looped rope that hangs from the ceiling and the stool underneath it.

“Tomorrow,” Erwin says.

The word is tentative and incredulous, but he doesn’t press. Erwin never does. And maybe, just maybe, had he done so, Levi probably wouldn’t have fallen so low. Maybe if he had asserted his role as a friend or a confidant, Levi wouldn’t be facing this endless pit of genuine suffering.

Erwin _failed_ him.

He who is like god, he who was supposed to be his savior only took a passive role and look at them now. All that is left is a pile of ash under the punishing rays of the sun – melted wings that had been made out of wax.

Eren’s quiet laugh is a tender mockery of _I told you so_.

“Expect me in my office first thing tomorrow morning,” Levi says, closing the sacred book and hanging up his cross. “Business is best seen to in the proper environment, with very little distractions.”

Now it’s time for him to wear a crown of thorns.

“I’ll see you there.”


	17. Leviathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would seem that we're reaching the end of this fic! Maybe five or six more chapters to go? Fingers crossed. Updates will be scarce during the following weeks because I'll be out of the country, so hopefully things will pick up eventually and be all smooth sailing until the end.
> 
> Special shoutout to [erenjaegrrr](http://erenjaegrrr.tumblr.com/) and [kiokushitaka](http://kiokushitaka.tumblr.com/) for being my betas for this chapter. 
> 
> Now, usual warnings: graphic violence, graphic dubcon, the whole nine yards. Proceed with caution.

Once more, Levi knows he’s dreaming.

His awareness is heightened almost instantly when he realizes that there is no color in the world he’s standing in. Endless rows of abandoned buildings, rusting cars, vandalized storefronts. The sight isn’t very different from an apocalyptic movie setting, but one can’t really appreciate the horror something can inspire until one experiences it.

It’s cold out, like the middle of winter.

All Levi wears is a pair of jeans, a plain black shirt, and broken-in sandals.

The atmosphere isn’t what troubles him the most, however. He isn’t alone and for the first time he isn’t being chased by things he can’t see. There aren’t any monsters lurking behind trees or spectral dogs licking at his heels with their flaming tongues.

There are people here, dozens of them. Some are dressed as casual as he is, and others have donned suits of all kinds. They’re all talking, laughing, arguing – but they’re all stone-cold dead. Levi can see it in the purple hue on their otherwise ashen faces.

Strikingly, Levi realizes, some of them are wearing bandages.

By this point he can no longer tell what is a product of his mind and what is that thing’s doing, but he figures it doesn’t matter. When he cuts down to the chase, both kinds of nightmares are just as inescapable and suffocating.

Levi begins walking down the filthy road, hands to himself and eyes on anyone who dares to come near him. Nobody does. They all act like they can’t see him, for the exception of the few who have their eyes covered. He can almost swear that something clicks in his head, a realization, but he’s at a loss as to what it is. Like a dream, the thought slips away.

In the entrance of a shambled movie theater brutal carnage develops and no one seems to care. Levi watches, stomach ill, as a woman beats another woman to a bloody pulp with her bare heads. The one on the floor is yelling at her attacker, cussing out in words he can’t understand but the blows keep coming. Blood pools and splatters all around them, and they just don’t care. They continue to yell and scream at each other, consumed in wrath.

He takes twenty five steps.

Two men are sitting on a bench with a basket of food swarmed with flies between them. One of them is shirtless, his ribs protruding just as much as his cheekbones. He looks famished and yet he doesn’t reach out for the basket, just stares at it longingly before looking away with a tired sigh.

The second man is too fat to even see his face. Levi only knows he has one because he keeps taking food to it, and making disgustingly lewd noises when he eats. He belches.

The skinny man wets his pants.

Levi continues on, repulsed and sickened.

A man plays on a broken piano that emits no sound.

An old woman picks at the threads of a scarf she can’t finish.

He stumbles upon a woman who walks right into him, a smile splitting her face in half.

She’s dressed finely yet delicately, her hair pulled back into a tight bun in order to show off her simple earrings.

“Are you liking my place so far?” she says, holding out a hand and gesturing the ruin around them. “Made it myself. Well, not really… They did it, but I was the one who called most of the shots while They were gone. Although They’re never really gone, but. This was all me. Don’t tell Them I said that, please. You can tell everyone else. In fact, make sure you do, but don’t tell Them.” She clasps her hands together in delight. “All me. I’d tell you my name but I can’t remember it. Just say ‘that woman’ and everyone will know who you mean.”

Levi stares at her back when she walks on before she is approached by a man who holds out his hand. The woman sighs and waggles a finger at him, but she empties out her pockets. Tiny bones are placed on the man’s palm, and he counts them over and over, almost feverishly, before he runs off and approaches another passerby.

The man walks towards the two men on the bench and takes their food. Then, he walks up to a small child and takes her bracelet.

Levi turns away, both horrified and intrigued about what he’s seeing.

“How come you get to be here if you’re alive?”

The boy who asks him this can’t be older than seventeen. His hair is short, dirty blond, and for a moment Levi can swear that he recognizes him. There’s ferocity in his eyes, an anger born from injustice.

“Excuse me?”

“What are you, hard at hearing?” the boy says, leaning forward in an attempt to be threatening. He’s taller than Levi.

“Maybe I am, punk. What’s your problem?”

“You can’t have the best of both worlds, buddy. Either you’re dead or you’re in-between, but no live ones are allowed here.”

“That’s none of your damn business, I bet,” Levi says, narrowing his eyes.

“Fuck yes, it is. If I can’t be alive, then you either drop dead or fuck off to where you came from.”

Levi takes a step back when the kid advances on him, and shivers violently when their bodies thread through each other’s like ghosts.

The kid bellows, tries to grab Levi by the throat but he can’t.

“Give me your life, you fucking midget. If you’re so hell-bent on throwing it away just give it to me!”

Levi puts up his hands on instinct, but someone else touches his shoulder.

The kid blanches, stumbling back with a look of unadulterated horror.

“Let it go, horseface,” Eren says, keeping his tone of voice eerily calm. “Go suck on a lemon or something.”

_Horseface_. Again, the same feeling of familiarity, but it’s gone almost instantly. Exactly how the kid is gone within the blink of an eye, as well as the others in the square, eludes him. Only those with their bandaged eyes, ears, and mouths walk around like lost ghosts with nowhere to go.

Levi turns back to Eren, taking in the smartly dressed man and becoming deeply conflicted about the sensation in his gut.

He’s dressed in black from head to toe. A form-fitting black suit over a black button down, black socks, and black shoes. His hair is the same disarrayed mess it’s always been, but slightly longer. There’s a hint of stubble on his cheeks and Levi recalls that this is how Eren looked like back in college. A boy trying on adult shoes, running on too much caffeine and trying to play it cool.

“Is this supposed to be Hell?” Levi says, unable to look away from Eren’s very brilliant eyes. They’re the color of sea foam.

Eren gives the square an onceover and shrugs. “Does it look like Hell to you?”

As someone who has never believed, Levi is finding it to be a tough pill to swallow. “I don’t see any pits of fire.”

Eren chuckles and places a hand over Levi’s shoulder. “Rest assured that you’re not in Hell.” He offers a boyish smile. “I wouldn’t dirty my shoes in a dump of muck like Hell. Besides, it isn’t all that it’s chalked up to be.”

Levi can’t tell if Eren snaps his fingers or not, but he does realize that they’re someplace else. Someplace dastardly putrid which he can recognize.

“There isn’t really a name for this place,” Eren says, walking away from Levi and being careful not to trip over any fallen branches. “Everyone’s tried but nothing’s really stuck. Haven’t we discussed this already?”

“If we did, I don’t remember.” Levi follows him through the narrow path of the grey forest. He can’t see any further than ten feet out, mist rolling around dry and decaying trees.

“I guess Limbo is as close as it gets,” Eren says, absently. “If you go by the Latin _limbus_. Less of a religious thing, more of a state of mind. So to speak.”

“The in between.”

“The boundary,” he corrects, spinning on his heels and walking backwards with smug confidence. “Talk about a bad place to build a house.”

Levi stops walking when a shiver touches the area between his shoulder blades. The fact that Eren is casually giving him an answer is suspicious, but he’s relieved, no matter how short-lived that may be.

“Are you saying that the house is a… gateway?”

Talk about bad movie clichés.

“Hm, not really. If you want to get scientific, we can talk about the Earth’s magnetic rings and how it influences humans’ perception of dimensions. Think wormholes.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

Eren laughs. “Cross my heart, Levi. You deserve a little something after being so good to me. Not a lot of mortals have rolled over for me like you have.”

They start walking again, a sour taste lingering in the back of Levi’s tongue.

“You’re going to tell me what you are?”

“No.”

“Okay...” A shadow darts out of the corner of his eye, but Levi has learned how to curb his fear of malevolent silhouettes. He knows it’s lurking behind the tree line, following them. “Limbo. My house is somehow involved with limbo.”

“Your house is just a house,” Eren says, splashing his way across a small stream. The water is a murky white. “It just happens to be a convenient place.”

“What the hell for?” The question is more a growl, anger making his fists tremble.

They arrive at a clearing where Levi has to stop and calm his racing heart. For a moment he could have sworn that they were staring at the end of Ashbury Lane, but the house isn’t here. He takes a shuddering breath in.

At the middle of the clearing is a black throne.

Nothing overly fancy or intricate, but it looks sturdy enough to pass as regal. It’s made up of leather, its armrests sloping downwards into spirals. The back is wider than it is tall, making it look inviting and comfortable.

“I’ll tell you when I feel like it,” Eren says. He jogs the short distance from the trees to the throne and unceremoniously plops down onto it. “Right now, I’m relishing the fact that I have you in my presence in my plane.”

Levi’s chin clenches. “Why do I keep dreaming of this place?”

“All you ever do is ask questions.” Eren groans, running a hand over his face. “Don’t you know that patience is a virtue?”

The question isn’t deigned with an answer. Levi is sure it’s a rhetorical one, anyway.

“Come here, Levi. I said I was going to reward you. No more answers, but I’ll give you the next best thing.” Eren sinks down on the throne until he’s lewdly slouched, knees knocked wide apart. “It’s only fair.”

Blunt fingers work on the buttons of his suit jacket, slowly popping them off and brushing it to his side. He lets his hands rest over his knees before dragging them upward, placing just the right amount of pressure over his thighs before cupping his crotch.

“You get the honor of fucking me on my throne,” he says, his words curling around Levi’s spine like tentacles of pure lust. “No fussing, though. One negative word and it’ll be your face against the floor whether you like it or not.”

Levi curses his body for responding so readily. “I guess it’s safe to assume that you think you own the place?”

“Call me an elf again and I’ll make you eat your own spleen,” Eren says in all seriousness. “Now, get over here before I change my mind.”

Unwilling to have the roles switched, Levi approaches the throne with trepidation. They’re being watched and he knows it. Somehow, the idea of sex in the wilderness gets Levi’s blood pumping hot.

“You’re not changing into any freaky deer things, are you?”

Eren grins when Levi gets on his knees between his legs, resting the side of his head over Eren’s thigh. “Only if you’re into that kind of stuff.”

“I’ll pass.” Levi moves forward to press a kiss over the bulge in Eren’s pants. “My dick’s going nowhere near anything that isn’t human.” He works the words over in his head. “Humanoid, at least.”

Eren’s fingers card through Levi’s hair, his fingertips massaging his scalp with enough force to make the tension ease from his muscles. “Don’t get used to me spoiling you,” Eren warns him, gripping Levi’s hair hard enough to make his dick twitch in his pants. “I’m just in a good mood.”

Levi mouths at the bulge, opening his mouth and scraping his teeth lightly against the fabric. He wonders if this thing enjoys the same things that his Eren often did.

“I hope your ass is clean,” Levi says, bringing up his hands to pop open the button of Eren’s pants and bring down the zipper. “If I have to fuck it, first I’m going to eat it.”

The sight of Eren’s mouth falling open in a mixture of pleased anticipation and astonishment curves Levi’s lips into a wicked smile.

Eren exhales in a rush, the mightiness in him diminishing. He looks as if he’s about to say something, but stops himself from doing so.

Without delay – yet hyper aware of the eyes he can feel on them – Levi reaches inside Eren’s pants and tugs out his semi-erect cock.

Even while flaccid the thing is deliciously fat and heavy, and Levi wastes no time in slipping it into his mouth. He doesn’t suck or lick, just leaves the shaft resting over his tongue as he hums his enjoyment. Levi rarely ever admits having a thing for limp cocks, especially for warming them up in his mouth.

He allows his hands to trail down to Eren’s scrotum and give it a tug. Levi gropes his balls, rolls and squeezes them enough to excite Eren, getting his cock stiff enough to choke him if he doesn’t pull away.

“Shit, you’re good,” Eren says, too amazed to bother filtering his praise.

“All I did was get you hard.” Levi takes the cock back into his mouth and fastens his lips as far down as he can, the tip nudging the back of his throat and making him gag.

Eren gasps and then giggles with delight.

Levi lets the cock fall out of his mouth with a noisy pop, a mess of spit and pre-come slickening his lips. “On your knees,” he says. A cough cracks that last word and makes Eren stare at him with boredom.

“If you’re gonna order me around, _sir_ , do it right. You lack all sort of authority.”

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Levi clears his throat. “Authority doesn’t mean yelling.”

“Neither does it mean hoarsely whispering because a cock was too much for your throat.” Eren wraps a fist around the base of his dick and uses his hold to smack it across Levi’s face. “To me, authority is when you make my balls quiver with want. So far you’re doing a shitty ass job.”

Convinced that this is some sort of joke, Levi flips him off. How the hell does one even order a monster like this around?

The urge to bite down on his dick grows bigger by the second.

Eren rolls his eyes before standing up. He mutters something about Levi being spineless while he removes the clothes from the lower half of his body and casts them aside.

While watching the pants land on the leafy ground, Levi catches a shadow darting out of the corner of his eye again. Only this time, it’s not just one. Dozens of them slink from tree to tree, blurs of movement that escape Levi’s understanding.

“Don’t mind them,” Eren says, looking down with a condescending touch. “How did you say you wanted me?”

Keeping his eyes on Eren is difficult when it seems like the shadows are closing in. “Kneel on the chair,” he says distractedly. “Knees apart.”

After flicking Levi’s chin, Eren turns around and climbs onto his throne. He grasps the back of it and spreads his legs until he’s sure he isn’t budging, and arches his back so that his ass is presented like some sort of sacred gift.

“How’s this?”

From his place on the ground, the sight is awkward. He opts not to remark on it.

Levi crawls closer to the throne, looking up at the pear-shaped cheeks of Eren’s ass. He can see a shower of freckles if he stares long enough, too, but his attention keeps getting taken away by the dark blobs that are probably getting off to this.

Forcing himself to focus, Levi sucks in a calming breath.

He brings up a hand to smack Eren’s right cheek with enough force to get a shocked whine out of him. Levi squeezes it, rubs it, and occasionally allows for his thumb to caress the tight ring of muscle. Seeing that Eren reacts positively to it with his thighs clenching and unclenching, aborted moans being kept in check, Levi proceeds to kick it up a notch.

Both hands now on Eren’s ass, Levi kneads them. He doesn’t bother with gentleness, fondling and rubbing until the dusty skin has turned red under his touch.

When Levi feels like he’s ready, cock hard enough to drip onto the leather of the throne, he parts Eren’s cheeks. With just the tip of his tongue he flicks at Eren’s hole.

It’s puzzling how he manages to taste this clean and natural but Levi doesn’t linger on the thought for too long, instead choosing to apply more pressure.

Eren sighs, pushing back to get more of Levi’s tongue in, but Levi doesn’t give him everything. Levi teases him, takes his sweet time lapping at the hole and watching it flex with anticipation. He buries his face between the mounds of Eren’s ass and seals his mouth just right before sucking, his tongue probing with accurate precision.

“ _Oh my fuck_ ,” Eren whines out, his hips jerking. “Fuck, _fuck_ , that is so insanely good!”

Holding his cheeks apart, Levi alternates between feather light laps and fervent tongue-fucking. Soon enough he lets a finger join his tongue in stretching the tight hole, and is disappointed by the lack of reaction.

It isn’t that Eren isn’t enjoying it, quite the opposite.

The side of his face is resting against the top of the back of the throne as he breathes unevenly. His face holds of a look of sheer bliss, as if he were getting a massage rather than being eaten out.

Another finger is pushed in. A quick stretch, and then a third joins.

Eren is unfazed.

“Are you…” Levi begins, but he has no idea what it is that he intends to say.

“What is it? Why’d you stop?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

Eren grumbles, annoyed. “Do you honestly think I can feel something like _pain?_ ”

Three fingers buried in Eren’s ass, Levi looks at his face with a deadpan expression. “I’m wasting my time.”

“No, because I happen to like the sensation of being full.” The muscles of his ass clench around Levi’s fingers. “Stretching is far from necessary.”

Yet here Levi is, trying to be a good person and prepping him.

Levi pulls out his fingers and stands up, his knees shaky and slightly off-balance from kneeling for such a long time. He does a quick job of unzipping his pants just enough to pull his cock out and give it a few strokes. Stopping for a moment, Levi takes a short look around them, because while Eren doesn’t need to be stretched, they still need lube.

“You’re still not getting the gist of this,” Eren says, reaching behind and grabbing Levi by the dick. “Shove the goddamned thing in already.”

Certain that this isn’t going to go well, Levi grabs Eren’s hips and adjusts him into the perfect angle. Tip of his cock against the slick hole, Levi nudges in and is surprised to find that the fit is snug yet wet. Soaking wet, even. Each half-thrust squelches obscenely.

“Oh,” is all Levi can say, his heartbeat increasing by the second. He slowly pushes all the way in, pressing his balls nicely to Eren’s ass. It’s deliriously hot and mesmerizingly intoxicating. “ _Oh._ ”

“Don’t bother asking questions,” Eren says, curling his words into a soft purr. His shoulders and back flex with the tell-tale hint of satisfaction, like a snake readying itself to strike. “Fuck to your heart’s content.”

Levi’s nails bite into skin when he moves. He focuses on his strength rather than speed, pulling out until the tip of his cock snags into the rim of muscle, and then bottoming out in a single thrust. Eren’s entire body lurches forward, but Levi’s rewarded with a breathy moan.

He searches for a pace that isn’t punishing because despite claims that this thing won’t break, it’s hardwired into Levi’s mind that he’s only ever rough when Eren asks him to be. For being the adventurous two that they were, their shared moments were surprisingly tender. Even if there had been ropes involved, the amount of attention Levi would shower Eren with was immeasurable.

But this thing isn’t having that. It can’t feel pain. In fact, Levi believes that it can’t feel anything because every noise it makes sounds particularly staged. So he gets angry.

What’s the point of being gentle when he’s forsaken everything else?

Levi reaches out a hand and fists it in Eren’s hair, tugging at it hard until he finally winces. Still, all that escapes Eren’s mouth is a laugh.

“Mm, hatefuck? I’m down for that.” Eren goes with Levi’s pull, almost making them topple off the chair. His back bends impossibly until his head is resting against Levi’s shoulder. “My domain, my rules,” Eren says in a whisper, snaking out a tongue to flick it against Levi’s ear. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Disturbed, Levi forces him forward again, bending him over the back of the throne. He doesn’t want to see that face.

Levi doesn’t have it in him to be angry. Upset, yes, but he’s too tired to be rightfully enraged by anything. The feeling is there, the urge simmering at the bottom of his gut, but he’s beyond the border of exhaustion.

However, that’s not what this thing wants. It doesn’t want a passive player. Its thrill is in the hunt, the resistance, in letting the enemy believe that they’re somehow in the lead before pulling out the rug from underneath their feet. Levi should have known that it would do nothing less.

There’s a moment Levi can’t place, can’t pinpoint or linger on because it feels disjointed from the rest of reality. Like a gap in his conscience. It’s something that doesn’t _belong_ , and yet he can see it as clear as holding a hand before his eyes.

Someone is walking in wide circles not twenty feet from the vulgar throne. Their hands are tied behind their back. Eyes, ears, and mouth wrapped in tattered rags but despite that, Levi can _see_. He can see and he can feel the despairing agony that slices like a cold knife through his heart because Levi knows him. Levi knows his every little dark secret, his warmest smile, his most tender look.

The most boisterous laugh, the crudest gesture, the most childish pout. His favorite food and favorite color, his favorite sweater, his favorite bed sheets. His favorite restaurant, his favorite movie, and his least favorite band.

Levi knows him and he feels ashamed that he could ever confuse that bright soul with this yawning void underneath him.

The image disappears, and a sob bursts out of Levi’s mouth.

He reaches out for it, for the puff of smoke that showed him beauty and divinity.

“Bring him back!” he says, the words fumbling together in a choked yell.

The thing chuckles. “And let him see you like this? Have you no shame?”

“Please.” Apparently, he doesn’t. “Please, bring him back. I… Just, please, let me talk to him at least. Let me—”

“No.”

No.

_White_.

The blinding hot rage makes his eyes see white rather than red.

The violence which Levi lashes out with is new to him, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling it with enough force to cause serious neck injury. The anger and hatred is so much that Levi is at a loss of what to do. All he does is glare at the monster, each incensed huff of breath stinking of the harm Levi wishes to do to him. Tear him to shreds, piece by rancid piece.

“That’s more like it,” Eren says, his grin dreamy. “Go on ahead, Levi. Fuck me like the devil and turn me inside out.”

He can’t. He isn’t even hard anymore.

“You want to punish me, yeah? What a better way than this? Making me submit to you?” _Sick. So, so sick._ “You’re already a monster. Might as well go all the way.”

No lie there.

Levi slips off the throne in one fluid movement, unbelievably calm despite the shocks of wrath that make his fingertips tingle.

By god, it’s the honest truth. He’s already sunk this low, why stop now? Like descending a staircase where each landing is new checkpoint. Levi can’t care less about rising to the bait by this point.

His own movements are surreal and detached, the world around him blurring like a dream that shields away the violence from him actions. Levi grabs and throws, slams weight onto the ground and pummels it.

Who needs a knife?

He has his hands, acceptably strong and a hundred times more satisfying.

Levi maims. He pops capillaries and snaps bone; hits so hard he can feel the sting on his knuckles as he bludgeons the face underneath him. He destroys until the face is unrecognizable, until he can see no emotion shine through.

Bile builds in his throat and that is the only thing Levi is aware of. Levi can feel but he doesn’t recognize the pain in his fist, as if he were punching a pillow rather than a bag of skin and bone.

It’s savage and vicious, and it is enjoyable.

The mess that is Eren’s face laughs, revealing a toothless and bloody smile. “Does that make you feel better? More alive?”

Levi hits him again, and again – and he remembers that night in the alley, the gore he had sunk his hands into – and _again_.

Levi hits him until he can hear himself weep from the misery.

For too long he has been standing at the precipice of this void before taking that last step in hopes that there would be a bottom. There isn’t. All he does is fall endlessly, short of breath, without any hope of escape.

He yelps in surprise when he’s hauled away and slammed onto the hard ground, greasy tendrils wrapping themselves around his limbs. They squeeze hard enough for his hands and feet to go numb, cutting off all circulation.

Immobilized, Levi’s anxiety eats away at him. He tries to thrash, to get enough give in order to break free but no such luck. He tries to kick at Eren as he hovers over him, his face the same unblemished vision it had been moments before the beating.

A pristine shoe slams onto the center of Levi’s chest, the blow enough to make him wheeze.

“Dominance isn’t about violence,” Eren says, pressing down harder. “You’re gonna have to try again.”

Levi watches, repulsed, as Eren sheds what’s left of his clothing. Item after item he drops it unceremoniously to the ground, revealing smooth skin and sinfully appealing features. His cock is hard and fat as it bobs between his legs, his balls hanging heavily – and Levi wants to place them over his tongue. He wants to measure their weight with his mouth alone.

“The way you hunger for this body, the way you bend over backwards for it just because I’m wearing it?” Eren’s smile is sweet as he straddles Levi’s waist. “That is how you play this game.”

The constraints tighten until Levi can no longer move his fingers.

“Wring them until their voice gives out,” Eren says, taking a good hold of Levi’s cock and stroking it hard enough to chafe. Levi isn’t excited but it feels good, and he can feel his body react to the stimulation. “Break ‘em and then put the pieces back together again.”

The heat of wrath keeps Levi from processing much of what happens.

Once he’s erect, Eren sits on his cock with a disgusting laugh. He rides Levi without mercy, slamming himself down hard enough to bruise. The grass, twigs, and tiny rocks bite into Levi’s back despite his clothing, and there’s nothing he will do about it. He’ll take it.

Levi will take it and he will reciprocate it, struggling with the limited movement he has. He tries to push up, to meet Eren’s bounce, because he needs to get _deeper_. Levi needs to re-conquer what’s his and annihilate the intruder from the inside.

But he also fucks back because he wants it.

Eren takes Levi’s bloodied hand and places it over his softening dick, ordering for Levi to touch him. He can’t move it from where Eren has placed it, either. He’s forced to stroke him, squeeze and milk him.

Torn between pleasure and pain, Levi is at a loss, especially when the tendril previously holding onto his wrist squeezes around his throat.

Spots color his vision, he can’t breathe, but Eren is still riding him. Eren is still moaning and laughing, crying out an unholy chorus of _fuck me, fill me up, breed me_. He gets off on his own blood slickening up his cock, on how he can manipulate Levi until giving him what he wants… and Levi comes to the sight of that.

Levi comes with burning eyes and an abused throat, and a monstrous vision of Eren taking what he wants, how he wants it.

“Go back to sleep,” he says, grinning far too wide for his mouth, and sounding far too great for the body he’s inhabiting.

Without much choice, Levi obeys.

•••

“I’ve gotta say, Levi. This is all a little suspicious.”

Dare he say it; the babble around him is almost pleasant. His mind doesn’t struggle to pick up any sort of clear speech, proving it to be a soothing balm over his burnt-out brain. More of that privacy without solitude ordeal Levi has grown fond of.

A waiter pours orange juice into their glasses.

“Just trying to be civil for once,” he says, taking the glass and running his fingers along the cold surface. “I figured that, if I’m to clock in again, a peace treaty should be signed between us.”

Nile’s thin eyebrow lifts high enough to almost hide in his horrendously trimmed bangs. “What kind of peace treaty, exactly?” The slur of his words is unmistakable, even if he hides it behind a forkful of scrambled eggs.

“One that states that we’re both adult men capable of dealing with shit on our own terms,” Levi says, watching him eat but only stirring his own food around.

“Does Erwin know you’re here?”

“No.”

“Does he know where you’ll be afterwards?”

Levi suggestively licks his lips, letting his eyes fall on the chapped pair pressing around another forkful of eggs. “He doesn’t own me.”

Nile’s stare is sharp, searching for any hint of deception. “Nobody does.”

A diamond cufflink conveniently comes loose, and Levi does a show of slipping back his sleeve and threading it into place. He exposes his wrist, allowing his fingertips to caress the pale skin there and, out of the corner of his eye, he can see Nile drink in each minute detail.

“Only the highest bidder,” Levi says, checking his watch before pushing his plate away. “However, I can’t show up late on the first day after weeks of absence.”

“Come work for me,” Nile says, quick and clumsy. “I’ll make you my personal secretary; pay you twice as much as Erwin does.”

“Money won’t get you into my pants.”

“You underestimate the things I can give you.”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Levi says, his mouth twitching into a genuine smile. “I’m sure that you’ll satisfy with whatever I ask of you.”

The clatter of silverware and an argument catches Levi’s attention for a moment, but he immediately places it back on Nile.

Nile shifts in his chair, his food slipping from thought as he focuses entirely on Levi. “Then ask away. The wife doesn’t have to know, if that’s what’s bothering you.

_Disgusting._

Levi wonders what it is that makes him so irresistible to people. His looks are fairly average, he’s short, and his attitude is horrid – yet he has men like Erwin and Nile, genuine GQ motherfuckers, barking up his tree. _He has some sort of fucking god barking up his tree, for fuck’s sake._ Levi can get these individuals to eat out of the palm of his hand if he so wanted to.

Still, Levi has to pat himself on the back for this one. He’s pulled out all of the stops to make himself look like a million dollar man. From the hair to the shoes, Levi basks in the hushed whispers and awed looks aimed his way.

“Anything?” he says while getting to his feet. Levi slips a hand into his pocket and feels for the tiny bottle he’s hidden inside it. “Here’s a good request.”

“Anything.” Nile is beaming at him, reminding Levi of a rat trying to pass as a respectable human being. “Anything at all.” Or more like a dog, wagging its tail because its master is about to give him a treat.

Placing a hand over the back of the chair, Levi leans forward to whisper against Nile’s ear.

“Drop dead.”

Levi flicks his chin, buying enough time to distract him.

Nile blinks, bewildered and more than a little humiliated. “You fuckface.”

Before pulling away, Levi catches a glimpse of the lump on Nile’s lap. “You can only wish.”

With a triumphant smile, Levi leaves the table without bothering to pay his bill. Let the insulting specimen do that for him.

•••

The building is still empty when Levi arrives. Odd, considering that the place is usually bustling with some sort of activity, but he doesn’t mind. This only means that he can get his bearings again, settle down among the cubicles, offices and elevators.

It feels like an eternity ago since he last set foot here, when in reality it’s only been a couple of weeks. Three tops.

So far, the only person who recognizes and greets him is the janitor.

Like usual, Levi walks into the elevator with his suitcase in hand. He presses the button to the twenty-fifth floor.

Not like the usual, Eren pops up beside him.

“I’m gonna try and not yell at you,” he says, clearly annoyed by something. “But you need to stop acting like a fucktard idiot.”

All-powerful being talking in internet lingo. What next?

“And what, pray tell, did I do?”

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you slip something into Nile’s drink,” Eren says, snapping his head towards Levi with a look of venomous murder. “Not only was it careless, it was irresponsible and foolish.”

“No one’s going to suspect me, so relax.”

“You _poisoned_ him!”

Levi shrugs and leans against the mirror, watching the numbers light up as the elevator slugs its way up. “Dimethylmercury,” he says. “Colorless, odorless, won’t know what’s going on until it’s too late. He’ll be dead in six months, long after they’ll be able to trace anything back to me.”

The eerily blank look on Eren’s face makes Levi falter. He isn’t sure about what to make of Eren’s sudden righteousness.

“Where did you get something like that?” he says, looking towards the elevator doors with a huff. “They don’t exactly sell it at Walmart.”

“The Dark Web is a convenient place.”

“You—” Eren makes a double-take. “You went into the Dark Web? Levi, nobody does that and with good reason. Snooping around there will get you a one-way ticket to the big house. Last thing we need are the Feds knocking on our door.”

A sickening chill grips Levi’s windpipe.

This sounds a lot like his Eren. The technophile and the worrywart.

“I know what I’m doing.”

The elevator doors open and Levi hurries out.

If he’s not mistaking, Erwin should already be in his office, but rather than pay him a visit, Levi heads for his own.

“He doesn’t fit the profile,” Eren says as they turn into another hallway. “Why’d you kill him?”

Levi stops by the lounge to serve himself a cup of coffee and sees that it’s been remodeled. Italian couches, flowery paintings, flat screen television airing the morning news on mute.

The coffee table has been pushed to the far back. There are no bagels out yet, no small cups of cream cheese and jelly. The freshly brewed pot of coffee is the only sign that there is someone other than him here, and granted, Erwin’s left his pen inside the sugar container.

“I didn’t like him.” Styrofoam cup, three packets of sugar, two creams. He prepares it but doesn’t bother taking the coffee there, knowing that someone is bound to show up sooner rather than later. “He’s a creep.”

“Perfectly valid excuse.”

They head back into the hallway and now, Levi slows his stride. The fake plant in front of Erwin’s office is also new.

“You’re angry.”

“Of course I’m angry! What the hell am I supposed to do if you get your ass thrown in jail?”

“Get yourself another haunt? It isn’t like you’re bound to me.”

Eren grumbles, wrapping his arms around himself like an aggravated child. He doesn’t answer immediately, visibly searching for the right words to say.

Levi’s interest is caught at this. “ _Are_ you bound to me?”

“No,” Eren says, and he’s being honest. “Fact of the matter is that I can get up and leave whenever I feel like it.” The press of his lips is grim, dark, for reasons Levi can’t pinpoint. Eren looks upset. “You’re nothing special. You’re just convenient.”

“Less bound, more attached,” Levi says, a smirk touching his face when the realization dawns on him. “You’re…” He stops, turns to Eren and takes a sip of his coffee. “You’ve grown fond of me and you don’t know how to deal with that.” Milky eyes narrow and triumph blooms in Levi’s chest. “What a tangled web we weave.”

“Your ego is awe-inspiring.”

“But I’m right and that’s what matters.”

The pleasure Levi feels at Eren’s agitation is beyond great. It isn’t much, but it’s something. Levi has some sort of leverage, and he wonders just how far he can go to exploit it.

Finishing up his drink, he walks to the nearest bin and disposes the cup.

“I’m going to have to think about this,” he says, approaching his office door and rummaging through his briefcase for the key. “Long and hard.”

“Why the hell for?” Eren leans against the doors, watching Levi like a hawk. “There’s nothing to think about. It’s a lot like growing fond of a pet rat.”

“People don’t go out of their way to fuck their pet rat.”

“I’m not exactly people am I?”

Levi harrumphs as he pulls out the set of keys. “You’re a slimy… thing.” He manages to open the door with one hand and pushes it with his hip. “Not the most appealing of creatures, but you’ve got a nice dick.”

Eren wrinkles his nose as Levi steps inside. “Keep talking big.”

“Oh, I will,” he says with gusto. He heads over to the desk and places his briefcase on top of it. “Maybe then you’ll find the truth hidden in all those complicated little layers of tear-soaked bed sheets and the like.”

Eren blinks but he makes no move to come inside.

“Overconfidence will really fuck a game up,” Levi says, sitting on the edge of his desk, one leg propped up. “You’re too busy boasting over your spoils to rarely keep an eye on the pieces.”

Anger flickers in Eren’s eyes, his face contorting when he notices that something is wrong. “You _honestly_ think you can outsmart me.” He starts pacing like a caged lion, but never does he take a step inside the office.

Levi pushes himself off the desk and casually saunters towards the door. A hand wrapping around the doorknob, he offers Eren a tiny smile. “You’ve never played with someone with nothing left to lose, have you?”

Eren eventually stops in his tracks, holding Levi’s stare. He doesn’t ask, and neither does he lash out. The only thing he does is frown when Levi slowly, and pointedly, shuts the door in his face.

Privacy.

His watch ticks away the seconds and Levi has to move fast.

First, he whispers a thank you in _Madam Mosley’s_ general direction for having suggested brick powder to seal off his safe place. She had rambled in a blog post about old voodoo practices and, while skeptical, Levi was desperate enough to try his hand at anything.

It won’t last long, however. Not if Eren is really adamant to get inside.

Next, he goes through the drawer on his desk he always keeps locked; the fourth one down. Inside it is an assortment of paraphernalia he should have gotten rid of a long time ago but didn’t have the heart to.

He finds what he’s looking for with relative ease: a small bottle hidden behind a small bong.

Levi uncaps it, pours four blue pills into his palm and knocks them back dry.

He’s done with the drugs, but he never expected to need them for this sort of situation.

Lastly, he sits behind his computer.

He impatiently taps his fingers against the keyboard as it boots up and sighs with relief when it finally does. In the corner of his window, he can see that Erwin is online.

Levi wastes no time.

Logging into the company’s archive, he pulls up the profiles of every single male employee, young and old.

Minimize.

New.

Folder.

Rename.

_Prize._

One by one, Levi sifts through them, bringing up photos and choosing who fits the criteria and who doesn’t.

Brown hair, aquamarine eyes, tan skin, too-bright smile.

One by one, Levi sorts them into the folder.

From inside his briefcase, he takes his agenda and a pen. He makes quick of jotting down addresses, vacation and retirements plans. What cars they drive, who they live with, their closest relatives.

It takes Erwin two minutes to arrive at his office door, knocking like the building is on fire.

Hands shaking and legs wobbly underneath him, Levi shoves his agenda under a stack of portfolios and fumbles for the door.

He opens it, tugs Erwin inside with plenty of difficulty, and shoves him in the direction of the couch.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Erwin says, eyes so cold Levi can swear his soul is freezing into place. “So help me God, Levi, I will get you arrested—”

“Shut the fuck up and listen up,” Levi barks, pushing him down onto the couch and straddling Erwin’s lap. He sways dangerously enough to almost fall off the couch. “I need to tell you something.” While he says this, his hands feverishly work on the buttons of his shirt.

Erwin is looking at him as if he’s gone mad.

Maybe he has, but this is what he wanted.

Erwin has gone for the bait and barged into his office without being summoned, and Eren is unable to come inside.

The valium is a little extra push, a necessary precaution.

Levi is tired of lying in his own head, creating false truths and forcing himself to believe completely made-up scenarios for the sake of not getting caught because not even his head is safe anymore. It’s too damn difficult to trick his brain into not thinking too loudly.

Eren suspects him now, and if he doesn’t get answers, he won’t hesitate to violate Levi’s thoughts.

The high the drugs give him will muddle his thoughts. It will either confuse Eren, or throw him off his scent. Either way, it’s a safety net.

Awkwardly, Levi struggles to take Erwin’s jacket off.

“Levi, stop.” Erwin takes hold of his wrists, but Levi fights against him. “Please, I need you to think for a moment. Get a goddamned grip.”

Surprisingly, Levi is in perfect control of himself despite the drugs in his system. He sucks bruises into Erwin’s neck, dark enough for anyone to pick up, and humps him without mercy.

For all that he struggles, Erwin eventually ends up kneading his ass and guiding them for their bulges to rub together.

But Levi isn’t doing this to get off. He needs to sell it.

When Eren barges in, he needs to believe that all Levi and Erwin got up to was jerk each other off.

“I may be wrong, but it’s the only lead I’ve got,” Levi whispers into Erwin’s ear, sucking a bruise just underneath it. He licks his lobe; bites it.

Erwin doesn’t interrupt him, attention caught, even if he feels agonizingly hard. His eyes narrow as he finally catches on to Levi’s charade. Such a smart cookie. “What is it?” he says, moving to start peeling away their clothing.

Levi looks over his shoulder towards the door, hoping that he’s making the right choice.

“I think I know how to take him down.”


	18. Hallelujah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the usual shout-out to all the lovely folks leaving a little love behind! Keep it cool, rock on, and may your week be wonderful. ♥ Also! Some spiffy new art has been posted over at tumblr, [so make sure to peek through the tag and check 'em out.](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/fic:-house-of-echoes)
> 
> Several warnings for this chapter, including plenty of violence, gore, and mild porn. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio—_

Levi has never been one for prayer. He sees no use in crossing one’s self before the wooden image of a man crucified for sins he did not commit. He understands why someone would do so out of doctrine or respect, or gratitude, even. But why signal a cross as if mounted upon one? A person isn’t a deity. Is he expected to somehow carry a burden he’s already been, according to the sacred book, absolved of?

Religion is always so ambivalent and contradictory. It is also necessary, more often than not. A crutch, like many other things people rely on in order to get by.

Levi doesn’t need it, and yet here he is, standing before an empty altar that is far from humble. Marble and gold are dull in the sunless morning, candles lit to fight back the encroaching darkness of the storm raging outside the church’s walls. Both fitting and oddly dramatic, but Levi feels a sense of completion in the ritual he partakes in.

_—contra nequitiam et insidias Leviathan esto praesidium._

The place is empty save for the priest that has slipped into the confessional when he first walked in, and an old woman who prays far too loud. Levi doesn’t spare them another thought. He marches up between the pews, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket as he goes and stops before the crucified Christ.

He’s unsure if he should pray; he doesn’t want to. The reason he came is because he _doesn’t have_ a reason; a sad reality Levi has come to terms with over the years. As if it were a roll call, Levi is present. This is as close as he’s getting to anything holy, because St. Peter won’t be calling his name on D-Day. 

Others will be calling his name with grief and rapture, however. Levi will soon become a household name. His name will be a hushed whisper over a dinner table, or the tale of warning for kids who stay out late at night.

“We gods are often jealous beings,” he says, reaching for the tiny knife in his jacket’s pocket. Hand tight around the hilt, he crosses himself with it. “Here’s to throwing it all away for the sake of someone ungrateful. I’m sure you know all about that.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Eren interrupts, walking up behind him. “Asking for a blessing before you frolic through the valley of the shadow of death?”

Levi doesn’t spare him a look, unsurprised that he’s able to set foot inside a church. The power that bubbles just underneath the skin of this thing is indescribable, and hallowed ground causes no discomfort.

Not a demon, not a ghost. Nothing particularly malevolent, but cruel in the way a child can be cruel. He suffers no consequence and plays with what he pleases when he pleases.

Not a god, but a child of one.

Eren’s chuckle assures him that he’s listening.

“Who should I credit your revelation to? Was it Armin? Kudos to him for nailing it with so little info.” Eren walks around him to face the altar. “You’re on the right track, but you still don’t have a name. Still not quite there.”

Mindful not to cut himself, Levi twirls the knife between his fingers. He keeps his mind calm, not allowing his thoughts to scream too loudly. Even if it does, his thoughts are a jumbled mess by now. Two joints and two pills. He’s not even sure how he managed to drive here without getting into an accident.

He starts humming France’s national anthem.

Eren is looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “I know you’re up to something, Levi,” he says, pushing back his jacket to slip his hands into his pockets. “Drug induced haze aside, there’s a nagging little bug in your subconscious that’s trying too hard to keep me out.”

The knife’s edge digs into Levi’s palm, driven by a force unseen but recognizable. He welcomes the sting as a reminder that he’s still alive, that he’s here and ready to fight back in the most ironic way possible.

However this ends, Levi can’t picture himself sitting behind a white picket fence. There’s no retiring to Florida. He won’t grow old enough to collect his first social security check. Levi is looking down the barrel of a loaded gun, and it’s only a matter of time until the trigger gets pulled.

He’s a dead man walking, and all that’s left is to take the world down with him, including the monster perched on his shoulder.

Not bothering to hide his knife, but careful to not spill blood over the marble floors, Levi turns on his heels and heads for the exit. He has an appointment the next state over in five hours, and he can’t risk being late.

Eren’s footsteps follow close behind but he’s otherwise quiet, probably grueling over Levi’s unspoken thoughts.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Eren begrudgingly says, adding a huff for good measure. “I’m not Erwin. I won’t clean up after your messes.”

Walking past the doors and out into the stormy day, Levi looks at him briefly. He jogs down the steps onto the sidewalk, where his car is parked.

“Yes, you will.”

Eren looks positively gobsmacked, and all Levi can do is smirk.

•••

The drive takes six hours. Not because of traffic, but because Levi shouldn’t be behind the wheel while high.

He makes a stop every hour at a gas station to take a piss, buy a bag of chips and a bottle of water. Too late does he realize that he has no cash on him, forcing him to use his credit card.

Loud music booms through the speakers to keep him awake.

Most of the drive is spent alone, with Eren flickering in and out of sight whenever he gets bored. It doesn’t bother him. He needs the breaks, his shoulders sagging whenever the mess of brown hair vanishes.

Brown hair. Not too long, not too short; slightly shaggy and soft to the touch. Always looks so nice when windswept. The kind of hair that always looks good regardless if it’s combed or not.

Hair that once slid through Levi’s fingers during downtime. Hair that he once pulled in fits of passion.

He changes the radio station to one that plays upbeat music in order to keep him from falling asleep.

•••

Navigating through the city isn’t difficult since he’s studied the map until he memorized every single turn he needs to take. Each traffic light, stop sign, intersection, coffee shop; Levi has learned them and used them.

He stops for a late dinner at a nice Italian restaurant, the sun having set an hour ago.

No one knows him here, so he moves like a ghost. There is no need to bleed into the crowd or shy away from faces that stare for a second too long. Levi fiddles with his phone as he walks down the crowded streets, back to his car.

It’s another thirty minute drive into the countryside.

Ten minutes until fancy lodges built on mountainsides comes into view.

Erwin probably wouldn’t be able to afford these. Floor to ceiling windows that double as solar panels, steps built in intricate stone patterns that end in tiny ponds. He’s sure there are actual fish in them, too. The sheer sizes of the houses are incredible, gorgeous and flawless in their design.

Pine and aspen hide them away. Tiny streams course a few feet from the garages where boats and Bentleys remain parked, along with grills and hot tubs.

The area isn’t as remote as Levi had been hoping, but it’ll do.

After the initial scouting, he gets back on the highway and checks into the closest – and least seedy – motel he finds. He’ll be here for three full days. He would not be able to live rolling around in the filth for so long.

Nothing really clicks until he sits on the bed.

Levi walks as if he were dreaming, trapped in the surreal nightmares that take place in the in-between. His thoughts are scrambled with the aftereffects of a high he forced himself to remain conscious through. Limbs heavy and stomach unsettled, he lays back and shuts his eyes.

He forces his world to shut down again.

Fulfilling the deed is a lot easier when he slips into what he likes calling his “cold shoes”. They may not be actual tangible shoes, but he has no other way of expressing it. He wouldn’t call it an alter ego or another persona since it’s sincerely all him.

It’s a lot like adjusting the settings on a television. Lower the brightness, the contrast, and the resolution. Set it the way one would if one has a migraine and is trying to sleep, and are too scared to do so in absolute darkness. Lower the volume until only a hum vibrates in one’s bones.

The drugs make it easier to slip into that state, but Levi needs to be awake for this. He can’t afford to get sloppy and leave evidence behind. He has a plan that needs sticking to, and he needs to be as alert as possible.

Time passes too slow, but it’s only been three minutes.

Levi gets up and reaches for his suitcase.

He places his laptop on the bedside table and turns it on, pulls up his latest unfinished report and leaves it there.

Suitcase now on the bed, he searches for the seam he’s manually stitched into it. A tiny tug and the thread comes apart, and he pulls back the thin layer of satin.

Overkill is one way to put it, but if there’s one thing Levi understands, it’s his obsessive compulsion.

Last Tuesday he realized that his need for everything to be spotless has dwindled. It hasn’t vanished, but his fingers haven’t bled from excessive scrubbing in months. Distractions, he assumes. Or new passions.

Underneath the top layer of his suitcase, Levi has crafted tiny pockets for his knives. Twelve, to be exact. Because twelve is a pleasant, even number. A one and a two. Join both and you get three, but that isn’t an even number, and therefore it’s no good. But twelve is just fine. Twelve is perfect.

Carefully, he pulls them out of their sleeves and lays them on the bed from biggest to smallest. The biggest being a butcher knife snatched from Erwin’s kitchen and the smallest being the one Hanji had given him some years ago. The entire length of it fits in his bandaged palm.

Levi steps away to look at them, glaring until he’s satisfied.

Afterwards, he removes his clothing and walks into the shower.

He scrubs himself clean, washes his hair, picks his nails, and scrubs off anything on him that may be dead. He’s being particularly meticulous about it, because of evidence. Nothing can be left behind.

_Not yet._

Levi will eventually figure out how to leave a mark. For now, he needs to keep a low profile.

He shuts off the water and walks back into the room to find Eren looking at his knives.

Neither of them says a thing while Levi fetches a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He isn’t sure if the room is non-smoking, but he could care less.

The television flickers on, and Eren settles down to watch a sitcom while Levi gets dressed again. All black from head to toe.

“You really gonna go through with this,” Eren says while keeping his attention on the family on screen. “This is one hundred percent premeditated murder.”

Levi slips on a shirt to then do up his fly, but he stops.

He looks down with a frown, his hands on his zipper and unsure whether or not he’ll be able to zip his pants shut.

“How fucked up can you be?”

The awed yet disgusted tone of Eren’s voice makes the corner of his mouth twitch. Levi really, truly, hopes that this is a side effect of the drugs. For the sake of his sanity and humanity, he desperately prays for this to be it.

He should be ashamed, or at least humiliated, but he finds that he doesn’t care. The physical reaction is there, but there’s nothing in him that _feels_ it. There’s no cause for it, that he’s aware of.

Sighing, Eren shimmies across the bed to sit in front of him.

“Does this really turn you on?” he says, bringing up a hand to gingerly cup Levi’s erection. “Bet it makes you feel powerful.”

For all the discontent he demonstrates, the blatant pleasure Eren is getting from this is naked in his eyes.

Very few words are necessary.

Levi lets his hands fall away when Eren pulls down his pants to free his cock from his underwear.

The repulsion in Eren’s face contradicts the way he avidly licks long, slow stripes along the underside of Levi’s cock, as well as the way he enthusiastically takes the head into his mouth to suck.

“You perverted fuck,” Eren says, tunneling his fingers and pumping the thickening cock. He smiles up at him in a way Levi can only describe as _adoringly_.

He smiles back.

Levi smiles back, fucks Eren’s face without mercy because this is his golden ticket. This right here is the deck Levi needs to play the perfect game.

“Make me come,” he rasps out, gripping Eren’s shoulders and digging in his nails until drawing blood. “Make daddy come.”

•••

Sitting on a bench beneath a tree, hands hidden away in his coat pockets to fight off the cold, Levi waits until his phone sings the 10pm alarm.

Coat removed, he sets his phone to vibrate and bundles it up. He leaves both items on the bench before crossing the street.

The night is cloudy with late season snow threatening to fall.

•••

Lock picked, Levi pushes the door open and scoffs. No alarm. The place isn’t as uptight as it looks from the outside.

“What if it’s one of those smart alarms? The ones that alert the company and not the burglar?” Eren whispers, as if anyone other than Levi could hear him. “Be quick about it.”

For once, Levi takes his advice.

•••

One step, two steps; low step, high step.

Step, step, step.

The staircase feels endless as they climb in near absolute darkness.

_Moving walls, disappearing halls, endless corridors with nothing but the stink of hell at its unreachable end. Echoes that bounce off nothing and caress his skin like electricity. The feeling of being watched, stalked—_

Levi blinks the idea away. He’s here, in a house that isn’t his home but he’s certain isn’t haunted. The only terror lurking in the dark corners is him.

If only he were nothing to be afraid of.

•••

Sound comes from the bedroom, loud and rude and far too practiced.

It’s no surprise to see pornography playing on the flat screen television, and neither is the look of confusion the gentleman sitting at the foot of the bed gives him.

The man’s bathrobe is open.

**Age:** 47

**Height:** 6’0”

**Description:** White male, brown hair, brown eyes, mole on the left side of his mouth.

**File:** Sale’s Department Manager for the past six years. Transferred to current branch eleven months prior to separating from his wife. No children. Two charges of aggravated assault, illegal gun possession, and domestic violence.

Levi only picked him because he is convenient, not even bothering with his name.

He steps inside the bedroom and shuts the door behind him.

•••

Practice makes perfect, he tells himself. He will get better the more he does this. He’ll make less of a mess.

To his credit, the man is given no chance to call for help. Even if he did, no one would have heard him over the television.

There are gloves in Levi’s back pocket but he doesn’t bother with those. Once the man is unconscious from a blow to the head, Levi grabs a four inch long knife and gets to work.

This he does meticulously.

He may not be an artist, but he’s good at keeping his hand steady. The blade is so sharp he’s able to slit a line along the forehead, above his ears, down his neck and all around. Blood bubbles and runs, staining the carpet and robes.

Levi retraces his line. Deeper, this time.

Along the forehead he nudges the blade inward, creating a pocket for him to slip his fingers in and grab.

He does so.

Grip firm, Levi pulls but finds very little give. He has no choice but to pull with one hand and cut with the other.

The process is painstakingly slow, but worth it. The end result gives him a good scalp with a healthy mess of brown hair. All he has to do is give it a good wash and a trim, and it’s perfect.

To make sure the man doesn’t wake up, Levi gently presses his blade to the man’s throat. White skin that shine’s blue from the television’s light looks mesmerizingly pretty when deep red joins it.

Mindful to not step on the blood, he shows himself out without haste and with his bounty in hand.

Using the end of his sweater, Levi wraps his hand in it to close the front door.

It’s cold out, but still no snow.

His coat and phone are still on the bench.

•••

“That was a pretty gross hit,” Eren grumbles as he plops down on the bed. “No precaution taken whatsoever. Didn’t even bother keeping shit clean.”

“No one will know.”

“Pretty fucking sure your DNA will be everywhere.”

Freshly showered once more, Levi sits at the coffee table with his laptop. “Erwin will clean it up.”

Eren narrows his eyes. “You’re pretty confident.”

“He doesn’t have a choice. I already have dirt on him.”

Pulling up his company account, Levi decides on preparing the reports directly on the database rather than a document to be emailed in. Writing comes surprisingly easy and superfluous for not being intoxicated at that moment.

“Let me guess. He once ran over a chicken on the way to work.”

“He covered for me the first time I accidentally killed someone.” Levi scratches his chin. “If he feels compelled to turn me in, I’m dragging him down as an accomplice.”

“Who’s to say he won’t buy his way out of it? Not like he can’t afford it.”

“Even if he can, at least five of his sponsors will surely cut all ties with the company. He can kiss his private jet goodbye.” Eren scoffs, and Levi notices him glaring at the scalp clipped on a hanger to dry. “For being something so fearsome, you’re easily put off by a lot of things.”

Lying back on the bed, Eren folds his arms over his face. “Took a lot to get me here, ass. It’d be a bummer if I lose my favorite plaything.”

“You mean, you would miss me.”

“Goddamn, your arrogance is through the roof.”

Thunder crashes in the near distance, causing the lights to surge.

Levi takes the moment of silence to hurry up on his report before a power outage takes the internet with it. The deadline isn’t until next week, but he feels like now is the best time to get it done. He can’t think of a better distraction.

Taking the papers out of his suitcase, Levi cross-references them. He finds gaps that shouldn’t be there and it immediately grabs his attention.

There’s money missing, and it isn’t a small sum.

Erwin usually has a direct hand when it comes to finances, so he can’t be unaware of it. It’s suspicious, to say the least. Unless Erwin’s been pulling pleasure excursions from the company account. The company is his, so who the fuck cares. Regardless, Levi will write up the discrepancies and send them in.

“What would you do if I get cut out of the picture?” Levi says.

The question is a mere afterthought, and Levi hadn’t been expecting the sudden pensive look Eren gives him. His face is a mixture of disbelief and amusement, so he steadies himself for the ridicule that is about to be unleashed.

But Eren doesn’t mock him. “Skip town,” he says instead, in all seriousness. “This place has always been boring. I was just lucky enough to come across you.”

Report unfinished, Levi stops typing and leans back against his chair. He suddenly feels sleepy, limbs too heavy. His mind runs away from him, away from money and shareholders and the ground beneath his feet.

“Are you real?” he asks because he just took a life. Because he has been taking lives. Because he’s been popping pills and rolling joints. Next would be the needles, and he doesn’t want to return to that. Toughest habit to break.

He wonders why the question has never been spoken aloud despite already knowing the reason.

Levi _needs_ him to be real.

At first it was out of grief; because of his longing to touch that familiar face again.

Now, because he needs to justify his barbaric actions.

On both occasions it is because of purely selfish reasons.

“Reality is relative,” Eren says, covering his face again. “Does it even matter? We’ve talked, we’ve fucked… What difference does it make?”

“What if I’m sick?”

Eren barks out a laugh. “Oh boy, have I got some bad news for you.”

Levi sees his point. “Not in that sense.”

“Look.” Eren flips onto his side and props up his head against his hand. He lips are pouting in the same humorous way he does whenever he’s trying to be a smartass. “What’s done is done, Levi. All you can do is move on and believe that you won’t regret the choices you’ve made.” He snorts. “Actually, that sounds a lot stupider than it did back then.”

Unsure of what he means, Levi focuses back on his report. “Whatever.”

“Nothing I say will make you change your mind about whatever it is you and Erwin are planning.”

“No, it won’t.”

“In that case, bring it on.”

“You would be a lot more appealing if you would stop talking like a juvenile.”

Another laugh and Eren snuggles into the mattress and pillows, stretching out like a cat. His shirt rides up, revealing a hint of tan skin. “Cut the crap. That shit turns you on and you know it.”

Levi almost rolls his eyes at how childish he sounds.

“You know, aside from being called _daddy_ , that is,” Eren taunts.

“You really need to learn when to shut up.”

“But what happens when daddy is the one being a really bad boy?”

“He’s excused because he’s the adult,” Levi says. Try as he may to sneer, the conversation is so absurd he loses the fight against the bubbling chuckle.

Eren’s own laugh is low and hoarse. “In that case, I should probably congratulate him.”

“With plenty of alcohol.”

“Nah,” Eren says with a shrug, sitting and then standing up from the bed. He crosses the room to straddle Levi’s lap. “With a good pounding, more like.” Pressing a kiss to Levi’s temple, Eren hums. “Blowing you left me hard, Levi. And I kinda want you inside me again.”

Levi leans into the touch, sighing at how desperate he is for the slightest hint of affection. “Took a liking to me taking control?”

Eren arches into him, wrapping his arms around Levi’s shoulders and nuzzling the side of his face. His chuckle blows hot breath against Levi’s cold skin, slowly exciting him with each minute grind of his hips.

“If only for a little while.” Eren licks his mouth. “You’re not afraid to get violent. I like that.”

“I’m not afraid of you breaking,” Levi says. The prospect of destroying this thing excites him even more.

“In that case…” Getting to his feet, Eren takes Levi’s hand and pulls him out of his chair. “You’re here for another two days.”

“Your point?”

“Let’s order some delivery and fuck senselessly until we get back.”

Levi gets pushed onto the bed, his clothing peeled away without ceremony. “I’m too old for this shit.”

“You need the cardio.”

“You’ll kill me.”

“Honestly, I couldn’t think of a better way to go.”

“Honestly, if I didn’t know any better, I’d call you a hormonal teenager who has just recently learned about the wonders of sex.”

Eren grins, giddy, as he sits on the edge of the bed and undresses. “Your sex is good.”

“I’m flattered.”

“And you have a nice cock.”

By the time Eren has his hands on him, Levi is already achingly hard. At his age, he shouldn’t be getting two boners a day – it can’t possibly be healthy.

“And you should get to preparing that tight ass of yours,” Levi says, glancing down the expanse of Eren’s body. “I need room to move,” he adds before Eren can protest.

“Why don’t you do the honors?” Eren climbs on top of Levi, towering over him and slapping his own ass as he bites down his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. “Open me up with your tongue, fill me up with your fingers.” His cock is beautifully erect, standing tall and thick with a hint of moisture at its tip. “Make me come before you stuff me full.”

The attempt at riling Levi up is successful, but he won’t let Eren call the shots from the bottom. “How about you fuck yourself on your fingers,” he says, lazily trailing his fingernails up Eren’s chest and flicking his nipples. “Then I fuck you, and then I eat out my own come.”

Eren’s mouth falls open with a loud moan, his body shivering. “Fuck yes, whatever you want to do to me. Do it.”

“Only if you say the magic words.”

Milky eyes darken with equal amounts of hatred and lust. “Fill me up and destroy my ass… _daddy._ ”

Levi smiles, flipping them over. “As you wish.”

•••

Self-loathing is an easier pill to swallow than apathy. Levi prefers tossing and turning in his bed rather than falling straight asleep the moment his head touches the pillow. The hatred he feels towards himself makes him feel human still. Everything might as well be a lost cause, but he still has this. His guilt tastes bittersweet on his tongue, the same way this mockery of Eren does.

The progress is slow and measured, carefully tended to as weeks go by.

Every person whose profile had been pre-selected has an expiration date. Some have taken vacations but don’t reach their destination. Others celebrate their retirement but never show up to their party. Several hand in their resignation letters, but don’t stop by the office to pick up their personal belongings.

One by one they drop like flies, and the company struggles to keep up. The hiring office is baffled by the amount of employees that stop clocking in with no explanation and they desperately try to maintain the workforce even. Tough objective, considering most applicants don’t meet the requirements.

The CEO refrains from commenting on the situation. As far as official records go, these people have abandoned their jobs. No one asks why references aren’t pulled up, or why family members haven’t been inquired.

By Levi’s standards, everything is smooth sailing.

His first victim is archived as a cold case file. With no substantial evidence, no forced entry and nothing stolen, the force is left scratching its head.

Those classified under missing persons aren’t found.

For all of Eren’s talk about not being an aid to Levi’s homicidal marathon, he does a magnificent job at hiding the bodies. Levi doesn’t ask where he’s hidden them, deciding that ignorance is bliss in a case like this.

But nothing for Levi ever goes seamlessly to the very end. There’s always that one bump that will undo everything he’s sweat and bled for.

For being a nice house, the place is both simple and small.

It’s late March, and the alarm inside the house goes off the moment he opens the door.

Unlike previous locations this place isn’t isolated, and once inside he can see the neighbors’ lights flickering on one by one.

“Fuck this,” Eren mutters, grabbing Levi by the sleeve. “We’re getting out of here before some trigger happy asswipe barges in.”

Levi wrestles himself free, sprinting towards the windows and drawing the curtains shut. “No time.” No one else has a matching profile. Levi needs this man, or else he’ll have to disrupt his cycle. And everyone knows he hates disrupting his cycles.

As expected, he can hear footsteps on the top floor. A voice he recognizes from the company is holding a frantic one-sided conversation, and Levi knows that his time has been cut in half. With the alarm and the police now alerted, he has to move fast.

Knife #5 is pulled from his wrist sheath as he jogs up the staircase, back pressed low to the wall in case someone comes out wielding a gun. Instead, a door clicks shut down the hall.

Levi walks over to it and knocks, because it’s impolite to come in otherwise. He knocks harder when no reply comes and, as a last resort, he kicks just below the doorknob. He kicks it again and again, each blow stronger than the last, until the wood splinters under his boot. One more kick and the door busts open.

He’s greeted by an empty bedroom.

The window is large but its panes are too small for someone to have crawled out through them. Perhaps a child could do so, but not a fully grown man.

Levi takes a step inside and sees the unmade bed, the open book, and the discarded glasses. There’s isn’t a bedside phone, and neither is there a cell phone to be seen. His back stiffens at this, forcing him to immediately weigh his options. This person could take a picture of him and send it to the police, or they could write up a description. Either way, the situation isn’t favorable.

“We can talk this over,” Levi calls out, walking over to the open window. Looking out, he sees that the neighbors are outside their houses, talking amongst themselves. Some are on their phones, and others are holding up smart tablets. “Hang up the phone and we’ll discuss this like civil men.”

Although he can’t see him, Levi can sense Eren’s presence by the closet doors. “Hide ‘n Seek,” he says. “Not original, but we haven’t had anyone try this on us yet. You better hurry up.”

Before Levi can move however, the closet door slams open.

The man scrambles to his feet and clumsily trips on the carpet, his phone falling from his hands. He leaves it behind in favor of running down the stairs.

The screen is illuminated, and the phone call in progress says two minutes and ten seconds. Levi allows it to run. There’s no use in being careful by now.

He doesn’t bother hurrying back down the stairs, counting each deliberate step he takes.

In the foyer, the man is desperately trying to open the front door, but his panic won’t allow him to function coherently. All he does is scratch at it, and eventually hit it when the locks won’t turn. Eren is leaning against it, arms crossed and amused.

Having wasted enough time, Levi closes the distance.

Knife pressed to the man’s lower back, Levi forces him to turn around and face him. There’s recognition in those terrified eyes, and Levi nods his head in greeting.

“I need you to smile nice and wide for me,” Levi says, bringing up the knife and pressing it instead to the corner of the man’s mouth. “If you do so, I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.”

“Why?!” the man cries.

Levi doesn’t give him a reason.

The knife falls to the man’s throat and is imbedded in a single move. He pushes it in, feels everything inside give until the tip of the blade exits the back of his neck.

The man is still alive when Levi shoves him onto the floor, but only barely. That’s perfectly fine by him.

_Cold shoes,_ he tells himself. There is no other way to do this.

Eren slinks closer when Levi takes in a deep breath.

Carefully, Levi slices the corners of the man’s mouth open until he’s left with two bloody flaps on each side. He tries not to think about how unhygienic this is and focuses instead on the gargled screams.

Medically speaking, Levi needs to unhinge his jaw to make this easier on himself, but there’s only so much the internet can teach him in just a matter of weeks. He decides on doing it the hard way.

Knife slipped back into its sheath, he pulls out a pair of Greyhound forceps. The instrument cost him a small fortune, having purchased the best of the best for a job well done. Spared no expense and now he can spare no time.

Grabbing hold of the sides of the man’s head, Levi tips it back and pries open his jaw. His thoughts are short and concise as he takes the forceps to the man’s top front tooth and strengthens his grip. He isn’t sure how much force will be necessary, but he gives it a go.

The man yelps weakly as the forceps slip, the tooth still lodged firmly in place.

Levi curses, leans back to catch his breath before giving it another try.

This time he takes more of the tooth between the tool’s ends and grips tightly. He uses his full weight to push the tooth down, and then up in order to loosen it, before tugging it out with plenty of difficulty.

The procedure works, but it’s time consuming.

He doesn’t stop, pulling out tooth after tooth until the man has long since stopped struggling. His hands are soaked with blood and it has gotten on his shirt and pants, but he pointedly ignores the filth and pushes on.

At one point he’s forced to straddle the man’s chest to get his molars, but just when he feels the tooth give, there’s a knock on the door.

Levi freezes when he feels his heart physically plummet into his stomach.

Red and blue lights flash through the curtains and the sound of a commotion breaks out on the other side of the door.

More knocking, this time forceful.

“We gotta move,” Eren says, rushing over to deposit his weight against the door to keep it from opening. “Now!”

With no room for hesitation, the teeth are quickly gathered and placed inside Levi’s jacket pocket. He grabs the forceps and stumbles for the blink of a second, unsure of where to go. The front door is out of the question, which means every other door and window will be guarded, too.

He needs to hide if he can’t make a run for it, and so Levi heads for the upstairs closet. There’s no choice but to wait it out and hope they aren’t too thorough in their initial search.

“Shoes!” Eren shouts, making Levi falter and fall after he’s taken those first six steps. “You’re trailing blood all over the floor!”

Adrenaline too high to think straight, Levi kicks off his boots and runs on socked feet all the way up to the bedroom. The image of red footprints over a beige carpet is emblazoned in his mind, like blood on snow.

_Like nightmares of bucks chasing after you in the middle of a dead forest._

Mindful to keep quiet, he ducks into the closet and shuts the doors as best he can. He hides his mouth against the sleeve of his jacket to keep his breathing in check, but it’s no use. Out of breath and agitated, there is little chance to make himself disappear.

The darkness of the closet is yawning, even if light spills in through the cracks. It crushes down on him like the endless depths of the ocean, stealing away his life. There is no end to it, no relief and no reprieve. Not even death can calm the storm wreaking havoc inside of Levi’s thoughts.

Footsteps are making their way up the stairs, rudely dragging him back to reality. The bedroom door creaks open further, and two women walk into the spacious area.

Levi can feel the beginning of hyperventilation. His lungs struggle for air as his heart beats rapidly against his chest which begins to feel too tight. Panic grips him and refuses to let him go, sweat forming in his temples as he waits. Even his stomach grows unsettled.

Their shadows cast over him as they look around the room, turning mattresses and checking the windows.

“There’s something off here, Hitch,” one of them says, opening the bedside drawers. “Something I can’t put my finger on.”

“Lady, we just walked into the grossest homicide. What’d you expect? Roses and gummy bears?”

The woman referred to as Hitch turns towards the closet, and Levi feels an unexpected calm wash over him. Maybe it’s because she spoke, giving her a layer of humanity Levi isn’t expecting. Humanity isn’t something he deserves much longer.

He feels aggravation at the prospect of having been caught hiding like a coward, but he’s ready to be taken in. If anything, it’ll be one less step towards his goal. Things will move faster, less people will be hurt, and he will be exactly where he needs to be.

Hands fisted over his knees, Levi readies himself for surrender, but a flurry of gunshots catches him off guard.

Yells and barked orders come from downstairs and the two women dash for the door after taking up their firearms.

Levi’s ears are ringing when his breathing finally calms down, but his heart nearly stops when the closet door is yanked up.

Eren is standing there, bloody murder written all over his face. “The back door is clear. You have thirty seconds to get your ass out of this house and into the nearby bushes. Keep going until you’re out of harm’s way and don’t look back, you hear?”

A shuddering huff of breath leaves him reeling, but he is given no time to count his blessings. Eren pulls him to his feet and shoves him out the door in menacing silence.

“You owe me,” Eren says, pushing Levi as they go. Levi doesn’t have it in him to protest but despite the worry of getting caught, his pride can’t take being pushed around by a brat. He turns to Eren with a sharp glare, but he’s shoved yet again. “Fucking _don’t._ Get your ass out of here and then we’ll discuss your bullshit calls.”

Legs shaky, Levi concedes.

He keeps quiet as he slinks past the commotion and into the kitchen undetected, attempting to become both tiny and invisible among the crew. He’s almost home free. _Almost…—_

Levi isn’t sure what happens first.

A hand on his shoulder shoves him below the counter just as a female voice calls out: “Hey, you! Who are you and what are you doing in here?”

Levi feels his world come to an abrupt stop.

But Eren turns around and holds his hands above his head, his eyes big and round and reeking of carefully fabricated confusion. “I-I’m sorry! I live right next door and I heard a mess of things and just… I had to see if Mr. Phillips was okay, ma’am.”

Levi stares at him, utterly stupefied.

“Young man, this is a crime scene.”

Looking around the kitchen, Eren swallows hard. He manages to look both spooked and jittery as he stands harmlessly in the middle of the floor, his feet barely moving as his fingers twitch. “Is… is he okay? Is he gonna be okay?”

Levi hears the woman step into the kitchen, and he curls himself into a tight ball. He can feel his heartbeat in his temples.

“I’m afraid I can’t comment on that, but I’m going to have to ask you to step outside with me.”

Eren nods his head the same way a scared child would. “Of course, anything you say, ma’am.”

Through the reflection on the refrigerator, Levi sees the police woman step aside and gesture for Eren to walk in front of her. As he does so, the woman’s back turning towards him, Levi takes the opportunity to sneak outside, where Eren is already waiting for him.

Levi’s mouth moves but no words come out, making Eren grin as he quickly guides him into the dark side street.

“What? Never seen an apparition before?” he says, annoyingly smug. “Give it a few months and watch the story be all over the internet. Hell, five bucks says I’m getting my own episode of _Ghost Adventures_.”

Avoiding spectators and police alike, they thread through streets and alleys under the cover of night. The only things that spot them are dogs and the occasional homeless person sitting on a bench, but neither gives them any sort of trouble.

For the time being, they’re out of harm’s way.

“They’ll make the connection,” Eren says as they finally make it to the main road, where Levi’s car is parked in front of a park. “Two people from the same company, dead. They’ll look into the missing persons, too, and shit’s gonna hit the fan sooner rather than later.”

“I know.”

Eren looks at him, his face unreadable. “Of course you do.”

Despite his best efforts to control it, Levi is shivering from the nerves. The call was far too close for his taste, but it’s a step in the right direction. Eren stood up for him, which means that things are beginning to slip into their rightful place.

The night is surprisingly warm, and all Levi wants right now is take a shower. And maybe a mug or two of spiked tea.

“Let’s go home. The pieces can wait until tomorrow,” Levi says, thoughtlessly patting his pocket.

“You can’t call in sick,” Eren reasons. “Too suspicious.”

“I’ll do it before I check in.” Levi crosses the road and fishes for his keys. “Right now all I want to do is sleep.”

“You’ll dream about getting your teeth ripped out.”

“Not if you’re there,” he says. He opens the door and climbs inside, finding that Eren’s already seated on the passenger’s side. “Do me a favor?” Eren looks at him, but doesn’t reply. “If only for tonight.”

“What?”

Slipping the key into the ignition and buckling up, Levi looks at Eren’s reflection through the rearview mirror. “Please keep the nightmares away.”


	19. 41 Whacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amazing [erenjaegrrr](http://erenjaegrrr.tumblr.com/) and [veggie-pants](http://veggie-pants.tumblr.com/) created a [playlist along with gorgeous album art](http://erenjaegrrr.tumblr.com/post/100376193731/take-me-to-church-a-house-of-echoes-playlist) for the story and it is so super you guys should totally go give it a listen. It legitimately compliments the fic quite nicely.
> 
> Have a great week and an early Happy Halloween! Enjoy. ~

The bouts of silence in the cellblock are a blessing in disguise, even if Petra’s judgmental gaze bores holes into him.

She has a hand over her mouth, her face pale, sickened by Levi’s retelling of the events. Try as she may, she can’t stop seeing him as an old friend and the struggle to reconcile him with the monster he’s created is a grueling one.

It takes her a moment to collect herself, closing her eyes and taking deep breathes to ease the discomfort away.

When her hand falls to her lap, she looks at him again with glossy but hard eyes.

“The plan you confided to Erwin, what was it?” she says, slowly but surely regaining her impassive composure.

From his place on the floor, Eren looks up at Levi expectantly.

“I’m afraid he didn’t know much,” Levi says while crossing his legs. “He only knew what he needed to know, just enough to give me a wider range of movement. Me? I could control what Eren learned with a few choice narcotics, but Erwin’s head was an open book. I couldn’t risk it.”

Petra doesn’t look convinced. “You won’t tell me because he’s listening.”

“You didn’t ask for the plan, you asked about what Erwin knew.” Levi rests his back against the wall. “Two different things.”

“Is this why you tried to kill him?” The words are measured and tight, as if speaking them is a burden she can’t stand bearing.

“Erwin knew the outcome of throwing in his lot with me. He was aware from the very beginning.”

“He was in the way and you tried to cut him down.”

“Yes.” That single word is perfectly calm, perfectly even. He sees her eyes widen and clenches his jaw. “For what it’s worth, Erwin knew something was coming for him. Idiot. Thinking he’d be able to diffuse the situation if he stuck around.”

“Because that’s what family _does_.”

Levi looks at her, surprised by the word choice. “That’s really unprofessional.”

“We could have helped you. We could have tried if only you had confided in us,” she says, leaning forward in her chair and resting her elbows on her knees. Her eyes are wide and pleading for an opportunity none of them will be able to have. “People are dead, Levi. You have a death sentence on your head because you didn’t reach out.”

“I reached out to Erwin.”

“And I’m sorry to break it to you, I really am, but Erwin isn’t perfect. Erwin makes mistakes, has lapses of judgment. He’s _human_ just like you.” The rawness of her voice touches a dark corner in Levi’s being. The pain is similar to the kind he experienced when Eren’s coffin was lowered into the plot. “He isn’t a god, he isn’t a psychologist. Of course, he’s a brilliant man, but you know better than all of us that he is selfish when it comes to you. His biggest fault is his need to hand you the moon and sun if you ask for them.”

Eren’s dry laugh grabs his attention. He’s gone from looking worried to acting like he doesn’t give the slightest damn about what will happen. But underneath the farce, Levi can see the layer of electric aggravation.

“I can see where you get your arrogance from,” Eren says, clicking his tongue. “What is it with the world wanting to bend over for you?” He runs a hand over his face and huffs, his eyebrows pinched. “You’re not even that good looking.”

Levi would very much like the answer to that question.

“There’s nothing for me to do now,” he says. The sad look Petra wears makes him feel genuinely sorry. “You shouldn’t be putting up with this.” She doesn’t deserve it. “Go home, Petra. Take a nice bath and have Aurou give you a foot rub when you’ve turned in for the night. Leave all of this behind and focus on a cause that isn’t lost.”

Tears fall freely down her cheeks and she wastes no time in trying to press them away before her makeup smears. “I won’t do that.” Always a fighter; unwilling to declare surrender and determined to go down fighting.

Some part of him wishes that, were he and Eren to adopt a daughter, she’d be as true to herself as Petra. Her tears aren’t a weakness, and neither is her gentleness. She shares her strength, her righteousness, to better whatever she can of this world.

“Tell me what’s left of the story,” she says.

_The story,_ she calls it. As if it were a fairy tale where she still holds hope for a happy ending.

Fortunately enough, Levi will continue until the very end. Until the guards walk through those doors, ready to take him away. The story will go on.

“There isn’t much left to say.” Levi twiddles his thumbs, dreading what he’s about to tell. He isn’t a man who cages in his regrets, but this is one event he wishes with every fiber of his body he could take back. One of the few mistakes he’ll never forgive himself for. “Now that they knew where to look, things went south pretty damn fast. The media had the story, so it was high time for them to exploit it to bits.”

Petra shifts in her seat while sneaking a glance at the clock above the doors. Although uncertain, she nods her head. “Go on.”

“First, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What is it?”

“Is there any way you’d be able to sneak me a pack of peanuts?”

Both Petra and Eren stare at him in disbelief.

•••

_“Late Thursday evening, the residents of a tight knit community emerged from their homes at the sound of a neighbor’s burglar alarm. Worrying after seeing no sign of movement, they didn’t hesitate to call 9-1-1._

_What the police found was a scene right out of a horror movie. The carnage was unspeakable._

_The authorities’ initial explanation involved an animal attack, but after further study of the body they found that none other than human hands could have done such a thing._

_‘Teeth were ripped out,’ said senior deputy Omar Flynn, one of the first officers on the scene. ‘There was a puncture wound through the neck.’_

_This is the first crime of its kind in Walled Creek, a town known for its security._

_Thomas Wrangler was well known among the residents, as he was described as a man dedicated to his job and an avid fan of fantasy football._

_‘He usually kept to himself,’ said Cecilia Ramirez, a longtime neighbor. ‘We only ever saw him around on weekends, usually washing his car or tending to his lawn. He was a real nice guy, real down to earth. No idea who would even want to do this to him. It was savage.’_

_Authorities on the scene are still searching for any sign of a break-in or evidence that can lead to the immediate arrest of the merciless killer._

_If anyone has any information, please contact the local authorities._

_Back to you, Joan.”_

“Oi, that is fucked up beyond reason,” Erd murmurs into his coffee mug.

The noon hustle and bustle in the company lounge is in full swing, inviting people to stand and stare at the television during the lunchtime news. Little by little, voices go quiet as their attention turns towards the segment.

“Isn’t that…” Gunther starts, leaving the question in everybody’s head hanging.

“What’s going on?” Hanji says. The simple question is generic enough once spoken in the direction of the television, but they all just know who the question is for. “This is—” She turns to Erwin, who is also staring in disbelief. “This is the second one.”

Severity etches itself upon Erwin’s face to the point that everyone looking at him becomes uneasy. A rustled Erwin is far from being a rarity in the office, but the image he poses is nothing short of terrifying.

“Someone’s targeting us,” Erd says, putting down his mug and sitting closer to the edge of the couch. Considering it isn’t phrased like a question, the words betray his paranoia.

This is how it always begins. One drop into the cup to let the water overflow. Let hysteria reign.

“It’s probably those assholes over at Sina.”

“Someone popped my car’s tires a few months ago? Christ, what if I’m next?”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t heard of Jared in a couple of days.”

The whispers turn into deafening chatter ranging from calm and collected methods of safety to obscenely outrageous conspiracy theories. The atmosphere in the lounge becomes charged enough to be suffocating, and several people shuffle out into the hallway and towards their cubicles.

“What gives, boss?” Erd says to Erwin, who seems frozen on the spot despite the superficial ease of him. “What’s…? I don’t know. What’s the plan, huh?”

Pushing away from the table, Erwin avoids their gaze but sets his briefly over Levi.

“Rico,” Erwin says, turning to his secretary with a tight frown. “I would appreciate if you could schedule a company-wide meeting in the conference room at 6:00pm tonight.”

“Yes, sir.” Without wasting a minute, Rico rushes out.

“As for the rest of you, don’t wander off alone. Don’t go out late if you don’t have to.”

“I think you’re missing the point here,” Hanji says. She crosses her arms and pushes her glasses up her nose. “If these two deaths actually are connected, they happened in their homes, Erwin. Not a parking lot. Not an alley.”

“What would you like for me to tell you? Lock your doors and set your alarms? What other precautions can we take?”

“You can call the police for a start,” Levi adds, getting up from his place on the couch to get a can of soda. “Going by the report, I don’t think they have made any sort of connection yet.” Grabbing the coldest one he finds and popping it open, he jumps up to sit on the mini-fridge.

Erwin’s eyes are frigid.

“He’s got a point,” Gunther says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Someone should check up on Aurou, see if he’s okay.”

“I spoke to him this morning. He’s out sick,” Erd says.

Their voices all muddle together as Levi blocks them out, his sights set on Erwin. By the look on his face it’s plenty obvious that he has fucked up, that he’s crossed a very dangerous line.

For the first time, Levi realizes how dirty the usually sterile room is without him to obsessively clean it during his break. Yet another notch in his belt of abandoned ‘hobbies’. The process of falling to pieces has been slow and unremarkable, until he takes a seat and _looks._

Change is a phenomenon that occurs to the best and worst of people, be it through force, choice or trauma. Death can be a pretty good catalyst, but the shockwave of it had left Levi just as rooted to the ground as he had been. At this very moment, he wonders why he let something like an echo torment him past the point of sanity.

On more than one occasion he recalls thinking ‘this is my breaking point’, but those are too many to name. The bottom of this pit hadn’t been reached so much by freefalling, but by gradually sauntering downward. There is no line in which he deliberately decided to take the difficult and cruel way out, the one that would literally cost him his peace of mind.

Here he stands, a shark in a fish tank, perfectly willing to bite any hand that reaches in.

“What if it’s the same person who killed Eren?”

For a moment it seems like all of the air and sound has been sucked out of the room.

Every single head present snaps towards the source of the question, but Levi’s. He can’t even put a name to the voice, mostly because he doesn’t trust himself enough to react in the least incriminating way possible. The words are a cold slap to his face, opening a yawning darkness inside him.

“It fits the profile once you really look at it,” the person continues. Perfectly even and mildly speculative, like discussing the plot of the world’s most interesting movie. “Initial reports blamed animal attacks due to the violence inflicted on the bodies. His murderer was never found.”

Erd, Gunther, Hanji, Dita, Moses, Luke, Ilse, Anka – all of them are appalled by the accusation.

“Just a thought,” Erwin says with a smile he tries to pass off as reserved, as a mere afterthought.

In an instant, all eyes are on Levi. Wary, nervous.

Levi’s jaw clenches and unclenches, the betrayal killing something deep inside of him and leaving him colder than the blue of Erwin’s eyes.

“I told you so,” Eren whispers into his ear despite his absence.

Nails digging into the fabric of his pants, Levi manages to keep his face devoid of anything other than his usual distaste. He won’t look away from Erwin, gauging him for a motive Levi hadn’t been expecting.

The charged silence is smothering, choking, toxic.

Levi slips off the mini-fridge with a scoff, brushing off the stares. He combs his hair out of his face and discards a half full can of soda into the recycle bin, careful to keep his demeanor in check.

“You’re so full of shit it’s a miracle you can even take a dump in the morning,” he says, scowling along the way to the hallway. “The next time you feel compelled to say something ‘smart’, fucking don’t. Dickwad.”

The silence behind him continues until he’s reached his office door, when he hears chatter he has no interest in.

•••

_Breathe in, breathe out, repeat._

The leisure to wallow in memories long faded isn’t granted to him as Levi stands in the middle of his office. The hum of the air conditioner is loud, but not enough to drown out the building anxiety that bubbles under the surface of his skin. He’s angry, and it takes great effort to not start pacing.

Erwin’s cheekiness is what gets him. The casual accusation that it was him who killed Eren. As if he had the strength to do such a vicious thing to one of the people who meant the world to him. His victims are nothing but wasted space, making it easier for him to push in a knife. Eren is different. Killing Eren would be like deliberately blocking out the sun, letting the Earth starve to death.

There is something here.

Levi is missing something, something important, but he can’t seem to put a finger on it. He can feel the displacement in the very air he breathes, in the looks he gets, in the quivering questions he’s asked.

Judgment.

Pity.

Fear.

These people don’t respect him, they fear him. They fear a man who showed no emotion when his husband was lowered into the ground. They fear a man who showed no remorse or grief, who carried on living as if all was fine.

Mikasa is right to suspect him. Everyone else already does.

“Adding fuel to the fire,” Eren says, materializing over Levi’s desk. “It’d be a lie if I say I’m surprised by this.” He pouts. “Just a matter of time until he turns you in. Either he doesn’t know what you have on him, or he just doesn’t care.”

Levi keeps his back to him, staring holes into the wall. “If I want your input, I’ll ask for it.”

“Oh, please. You’re like a battered woman who always has an excuse. _He’ll come around. He was just angry. I can’t walk out yet._ You’re fucking pathetic when you want to be.” He remains ominously still, watching Levi’s every minimal movement. “It sickens me.”

“Go away.”

“Bet that little battle tactic you two established is slowly falling apart, huh. Be honest. How incriminating would the evidence be? Kudos, really. The guy sold it pretty good.” Eren’s mouth curls into a sardonic smirk. “Then again, all he ever has to do is whip out his cock and bam. Face down, ass up, that’s the way you like to get fucked.”

Levi turns to glare at him, his anger peaking and plateauing into apathy. The heat on his neck turns cold enough to make his hairs stand on end.

“Doesn’t it make you wonder? Motives? How long has he had this up his sleeve?” He stops here, the look of understanding dawning on his face. “I wonder what his reason is. Your wellbeing? Or his?”

“You’re doing a shit ass job at getting under my skin.”

Eren’s hands are on him then, tender and loving as they stroke his sides and hip. A kiss is pressed just below his ear, and Levi can’t keep from shivering involuntarily. His touch is cold.

“Not so sure about that, hot stuff.” Arms wrap around him, cocooning him in false safety. “Looks like I’m doing a pretty good job at making you doubt him.”

Scowling, Levi keeps from reacting too much. Despite this, Eren’s touch is comforting and it angers him beyond the point of words.

Because he’s right.

This is a curveball he hadn’t been expecting, a very serious and potentially fatal one. At this point in time Levi hasn’t the slightest of where Erwin’s loyalties lie, forcing him to walk a very fine line until he can decide his next course of action. He should trust Erwin and follow as blindly as he always has, but bringing up Eren’s murder is a blow too low even for his sadistic tactics.

“He isn’t coming,” Eren says, collapsing with a sigh over Levi’s back and resting his forehead over his shoulder. “And you know why.”

There is no knock on the door, and no phone call.

Erwin isn’t coming.

Erwin has made his decision, chosen his side.

“Your move, Levi.”

And now it’s time to fight his own battle.

•••

When driven on autopilot by the blind rage pulsing in his veins, physical strength comes surprisingly easy. Levi chalks it off to adrenaline, leaving him to decide that anger and fear are very similar emotions to him. Through colossal effort and adaptation, he has made himself able to react accordingly in otherwise debilitating situations. His apathy allows him to analyze.

The ax in his hand, although clumsy at first, is now a reassuring weight as he drives it through the logs set along two tables. The sensation is similar to that of cutting into a body, especially when the wood is too thick to split in one go. The wedges are pretty, making the log esthetically pleasing as he hits it again and again, each downstroke stronger than the last.

Using the back of his gloved hand, he pushes his goggles back into place.

A chainsaw would be easier, but what’s the fun in that?

“Sometimes I forget that you’re built like a Mack Truck,” Eren says from his place on the driver’s side of Levi’s car. “Good god, not sure if it’s sexy or scary as shit.”

Levi wants to remark something, a suggestion for him to put his hand on the chopping block maybe, but refrains from it. He’s too agitated to speak, and instead focuses on depositing his body weight into each swing of the ax.

Out of the corner of his eye, Levi sees Eren lean on the steering wheel, facing the warehouse wall that has been cleared of debris. His thumb is tapping out a beat, but he otherwise seems at ease. Bored, but that’s nothing new.

“What are you building?”

The last log now cut, Levi walks over to his makeshift toolbox from where he takes a sander. “You’ll see when it’s done.” Rough edges need to be rounded to avoid splinters. Plus, Erwin deserves only the best.

Grateful for the gloves, Levi sands his cuts until the wood is left smooth and slightly rounded on one side. The process is time consuming, and he’ll have to skip sealing and glossing the wood entirely, but it’s worth it in the end. He isn’t certain how he will achieve this, but he will.

Two shafts of ash wood measuring five feet, and two more at three feet are loaded into his trunk along with twine, tie wraps, and his ax.

The action is innocent enough, but Eren hovers over him like a pesky fly attracted to the stench of shit.

“Not suspicious at all,” he says, watching as Levi locks the trunk and pockets the key. “Stepping up your game? I thought that was going to be for the whole shrine thing.”

Removing the gloves and goggles, he places them in the toolbox. “It’s a surprise,” Levi finds himself saying. He kicks the box under a table and makes sure that everything is organized before making his way to the clean wall.

“My mother once told me that handcrafted gifts meant that you cared,” he continues, eyes on the assortment of shelves he’s installed along the crumbling wall. “As a child, I thought she only said so because we were poor and couldn’t afford expensive birthday gifts.”

The first shelf is at waist level and then they make their way up at precisely two foot intervals. These had been purchased, but Levi went out of his way to get custom made runners for them in a shade of emerald green with gold finishing. The set up is simple.

“I like to think that I care too much,” Levi says, reaching up to touch his fingers to the mat of neatly combed brown hair on display. “Even if people see or believe differently. I care too much. Fuck, I wouldn’t have gone through with this if I didn’t.”

“You’ve got a messed up way of showing you care.” Eren stands by his side, frowning with mild disgust at the gesture. “Strike that. You’re messed up in general.”

“Something was taken from me. It’s only natural to be angry, to want to cause harm, to cause the same pain.” Moving on from the hair, Levi taps his nails against the transparent jars. “Human nature at its finest.”

Eren turns to face him. He carelessly leans back against the shelves, his discolored eyes passively admiring him.

Sometimes Levi forgets that this thing is beyond him. When they watch movies or go hiking, it’s simple to shut out the twisted reality that this thing, for whatever reason, exists to make his life a tangible hell. He can very easily and perfectly mimic the Eren that was once Levi’s down to a molecular level, but he pointedly chooses to not make the copy perfect. As if its sole purpose is to eat away at Levi’s peace.

“Mr. Murderer has no face, so you’ll drag down everyone who reminds you of the crime,” Eren says, slowly nodding his head. “You should have worked for the government.”

“Was it you?”

Eren wags his nose and mocks a moment of thought. “Sorry to let you down, but I only ever heard of Sunshine Boy when he begged me for a visit.”

Levi tries his damndest not to look surprised by the revelation, but there’s always something to betray him. And even if he had succeeded in keeping his face under control, Eren would have sensed the spike of anxiousness and desperation.

To stall any form of exclamation, Eren lifts up a hand. “Not coincidental,” he says. “He asked around and no one would help him out because it was my vacationing spot. The afterlife isn’t a free-for-all, buddy. There are rules.”

“Set by whom?”

“Me.” The single word is a mere grumble, a challenge with enough authority to make a chill touch the base of Levi’s spine. “Limbo isn’t Wall Street; we have a little something called integrity. But I like exploiting the loopholes from time to time. It can get a little boring behind the scenes.”

Heart beating unevenly, Levi licks his lips. “Does that make you the son of the Devil?”

“Offended,” Eren scoffs. “Do you know why you only hear about God or the Devil, but never me?”

Fear, _true_ fear latches onto Levi with such severity that his knees begin to grow weak.

He involuntarily takes a step back, and Eren smiles a satisfied smile.

“Saturn once ate his son because he feared he might one day be overthrown.” Eren pushes away from the shelves and approaches Levi, who has steeled himself enough to not take another step back. “All I can say is that Daddy should have done the same with me.”

•••

At 8:07PM, Levi turns off the ignition.

He takes the last available space in the parking lot closest to Erwin’s building, one that’s nestled beside the brick wall of a crowded bar.

Seatbelt off, the keys are slipped into his jacket pocket along with his phone set on vibrate.

Levi gets out of the car and locks the doors, walks over to the passenger’s side and catalogues any dents or scratches on the body of it. The cyclone fence separating the lot and bar is halfway collapsed, and he’ll have someone’s head if the paintjob gets fucked.

Turning up the collar of his jacket, Levi reaches into his pocket and activates the alarm.

It’s a good noisy night, with public buses making stops and cars zooming by on the brightly lit street. The night sky is impossible to see due to pollution, but the lack of thunder tells him that there will be no rain or late season snow.

Electronic cigarette now pinched between his lips, Levi waits along with a small group of people at the edge of the crosswalk for the light to change. Eerily, he can’t make out the features of their faces.

A motorcycle zips by, nearly startling him but not quite.

The sounds turn muddled as his mind begins to dissociate, pulling away at the threads of his muscles, shutting off every meaningless distraction he may encounter.

These people don’t know him and they don’t know what he is about to do.

Levi is safe, and he has a purpose to fulfill.

He’ll be even safer when the night is through, once he’s disposed of the thorn on his heel. That’s what he gets for stepping on beautiful roses. Thorns that make him bleed and cause him pain. Roses are useless flowers. So proud and popular. They don’t deserve the hype.

A slow blink of his eyes and a pull of his cigarette later, and Levi finds himself alone in an elevator.

He immediately stops moving, clamping down panic at not knowing how he got here, but he recognizes the interior. The red carpet and silver handles, as well as the mirrored doors and the faded number thirteen on the button to Erwin’s floor.

_Is it thirteen?_ He is almost positive it’s a different floor.

Removing the cigarette from his mouth, Levi takes in deep breaths in order to prevent hyperventilation.

_Inhale, five seconds, exhale, five seconds, inhale…_

Lost time is a phenomenon he has never dealt with before, one he doesn’t think he will be able to get used to, let alone conquer. The loss of control leaves him on the verge of a panic attack, the helplessness opening a yawning pit in his chest and stomach.

He can’t do this.

He shouldn’t do this.

Erwin is his friend, his confidant, his lover, his rock. So the guy isn’t perfect; who is? Isn’t Levi’s intention to be caught in the end? What’s the use of destroying evidence, of keeping Erwin from talking? What’s the use?

What’s the use of anything he’s done and anything he will do?

He can’t do this.

He can’t walk into the place he once called home and dirty it with innocent blood. The place is a sanctuary. A shelter from the world that frowned on what the three of them had once shared. A refuge for Eren whenever he’d get into fights at home. A haven for Levi when the allure of drugs called him to the streets.

He can’t.

Nine.

_Ding!_

Ten.

_Ding!_

There will be no coming back from this.

_Ding!_

He can’t.

_Ding!_

Oh yes he can.

The elevator doors open and Levi steps out into the small receiving area, greeted only by minimalist paintings and cheap Italian sculptures. He waits until the elevator leaves before approaching the door and putting away his cigarette.

Now aware of his reality, and certain that he will no longer lose his grip of it, Levi lifts a fist and knocks. Two short raps, as per usual.

He unzips his jacket when the heater warms up his limbs.

The ticking of his watch is loud enough to make its presence known through the faint rumblings and hums of the building. The soundscape is therapeutic.

From inside Levi hears a pair of heavy footsteps that stop at the door, and nothing else. He waits, and glares at the peephole he knows he’s been looked at through. Finally he hears the click of a lock and the rattle of a chain.

The door opens a crack and Levi seizes up right away when he realizes it. The door chain has been lodged into place, and Mike deliberately blocks the view of the apartment on the other side.

His palms begin to sweat. “You’re just going to let me stand out here?” he says, shifting his feet and standing in a casual slouch.

Mike stares at him through his disarrayed bangs, and Levi can spot not even a hint of hesitation. He isn’t going to be let in, which means this is going to be a problem.

“Erwin isn’t here,” Mike says, stiffly. “Come back later. I’m busy.”

Before the door closes, Levi manages to wedge in his boot to keep it from doing so.

He leans against the doorframe with a frown, trying his best to look harmless and slightly confused. “With all the shit I’ve seen you do, one would guess you’d be more comfortable in my presence.”

“Now isn’t the time. Go ahead and call him. Or just meet up with him. I think he went out to buy coffee.”

“He’ll be back soon, then. There you go. I’ll wait in the living room.”

“Levi.”

After the name is said, all that follows are blank stares that betray an unspoken animosity between them. The distrust is palpable and almost serves as a warning for Levi to turn back and leave.

Once he pulls his foot out of the way, the door closes, unlatches, and opens entirely.

Mike gestures him in with a wave of his hand.

Nothing is out of place in the apartment. Everything is clean and organized, blatantly harmless. Still, Levi hesitates before stepping inside.

“Thank you,” he says, straining the words to show his annoyance. “What’s the deal with you?” Kicking off his boots by the door, Levi notices Erwin’s shoes by his briefcase. He tenses even more. “You’re looking more sullen than usual.”

“My mother’s in the hospital again.”

Mike heads into the kitchen and Levi follows, removing his phone and keys from his pockets and placing them on the counter – right next to Erwin’s key and wallet.

Levi can smell pastries, and spots freshly iced mini cupcakes on top of the stove.

“Right and that’s clearly my fault,” he remarks, taking off his jacket and draping it over a chair. “Good enough reason to not let me in.”

“I don’t have to let you in if I don’t want to.” The sheer coldness of the words is almost a shock. Almost. “You don’t live here anymore.”

“I know I don’t.”

“And neither does Erwin belong solely to you.”

At this, Levi looks up him.

He knows this. He knows that he deserves whatever Mike has to say because it’s true. While he did grant Erwin the permission to nurture Levi back to stability by any means necessary, it has been unfair of the both of them to take advantage of Mike the way they have.

Levi doesn’t reply because he doesn’t know how to. During his youth, the only way to settle this kind of situation was with a fist fight. While confident in his skill, Levi isn’t about to take a man who is nearly a foot and half taller than him if he doesn’t have to.

Mike turns his back to Levi, hands over the countertop as he shakes his head. His shoulders are stiff, back coiled with anger that is completely understood. “The two of you had a choice. If you weren’t ready to call it quits, why did you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Levi says before Mike can continue. “Whatever mess was going on has been fixed, which means the two of you can go back to playing house.”

“Where have I heard that before?” Aggressively opening the tap, he rests his elbows over the edge of the sink and allows water to run over his hands. “I thought it was charming, the whole thing the two of you have. Was pretty darn ready to just… let it be. Smile whenever Erwin played savior because the two of you – well, the two of you run deep. Made for each other, almost.”

“Broken record.”

“Neither of you hear it enough.”

“What do you want me to do then, Mike?”

The argument helps to set Levi at ease, so he lends it no real amount of attention. Mike is on edge for reasons unrelated to what Levi has come here to do; unless it’s a rouse. Erwin’s belongings, those he never leaves the house without, are strewn haphazardly across the apartment.

Something doesn’t fit.

Levi reaches into the bowl of trail mix that sits innocently next to Erwin’s phone and grabs a handful.

“That has peanuts,” Mike says, crossing the small area between the sink and the island counter to take the bowl away. “And dried strawberries.”

The question of why Levi should care fades when he remembers that he’s allergic to both foods. “You got anything to munch on that won’t kill me?”

A mini cupcake is plucked from the baking rack and slid his way before the rest of the batch gets slipped into the refrigerator.

“I don’t know,” Mike eventually says, tucking a stray lock of blonde hair behind his ear. “I honestly don’t know what else to tell you.”

Carefully removing the paper cup so as not to smear the icing, Levi pops the entire thing into his mouth. Red velvet and lemon. Tasty, but a hint too tangy.

“Erwin is programmed with a default setting,” Levi says, folding the cup. “Doesn’t matter the setting or the situation, I guess it’s safe to assume that he feels obligated to burst through my door and fix my problems.” He flicks it towards the center of the table. “Not really my fault. You know I was the one who wanted Eren and me to be exclusive.”

“You haven’t exactly been saying no, either.”

“He gets under your skin.” Damn bastard is like a snake. “Devours you without your knowing it.”

Mike’s half laugh is discreet and fond as he turns away to hide it from Levi. Seeing such a big guy act like a love-stricken boy is undoubtedly heartwarming. If only he had fallen for someone other than Erwin.

The thought doesn’t come out of jealousy, but of wariness. Since Erwin’s stint this morning, a visceral wrongness has settled on the back of his tongue, forcing him to taste it over and over again.

Erwin Smith is a god, but gods aren’t meant to be humanized. They’re meant to be worshiped as something alien and untouchable. Get too close and get burned.

“He really isn’t here,” Mike says, his back to Levi still. The gesture is strange, especially for a man who turns his back to no one. “Give him a couple more minutes.”

Levi nods his head and movement soon catches the corner of his eye.

Eren is pacing, looking up at Mike accusingly. “Don’t buy that for a second,” he warns.

Becoming more alert, Levi fakes his nonchalance. He tries to listen for anything that might give Erwin away, but so far nothing has caught his attention.

“I won’t take much of your time. Just stopped by to drop off some reports,” he says, pretending to admire the pictures scattered along the wall while resting his chin on a hand. “I’ll be out of your hairs as soon as he gets back.”

Nearly translucent in the dim lighting of the apartment, Eren moves around the place like a genuine ghost. He’s looking for something as he goes turning pillows and sneaking into rooms, and Levi, despite knowing what it is, is aching to ask.

“Stay as long as you please.” Mike rinses something in the sink, shakes it, and it clinks when it’s hung up. “I should stop acting like a petulant kid.”

“You and me both,” Levi tries to joke, briefly looking from Eren to Erwin’s phone and then back at Eren.

Eren, who freezes in front of the doors of the master bedroom.

His face is contorted; forced to be calm despite the blinding rage that simmers dangerously close to the top.

“He’s in the room.”

Levi stops breathing.

_Don’t do that,_ he reprimands himself, forcing his system to regulate. Calm. He needs to be calm. He needs to be safe now that he knows what Mike’s game is.

His hand pats his pants pocket.

Levi pushes himself away from the counter and crosses the small area between the kitchen and the bedroom. He keeps his stance casual, but it doesn’t matter how hard he tries.

Mike is keeping a sharp eye on him.

A beat of awkwardness charges the air, making blood rush in his ears.

“What is it?” he asks, slowly walking towards Levi, towards the doors that hide Erwin.

Levi hums inquisitively, slipping a hand into the pocket of his pants. He tries to turn away, to make his presence smaller, but it’s useless. The area is suffocating. Air freezes in his lungs, cramps lock his fingers around the hilt of his knife.

“Levi.”

“Step aside, Mike.”

The words go off like pulling a trigger.

Mike stands between Levi and the door, using his height and bulk as an advantage. Shoulders squared off, he looks about ready to tackle him if the need be.

“Don’t do this,” Mike says, as if he somehow could even begin to comprehend what Levi is about to do, or why he needs to do it. Speaking without thinking. Always such an annoying thing. “Put it away.”

_Put it away._

Levi hadn’t realized that he had exposed his weapon, and that it now hangs limply by his side. Familiar leather, concrete and smooth; cold and sleek steel. A comfort. Power. Safety.

“This isn’t about you,” Levi says. “Please. Walk out, right now. Don’t watch me do this.”

“There won’t be anything to watch because I’m not letting you do shit.” His voice is so easy, almost amused. As if Levi was a sheltered child threatening to run away from home, and Mike was the ever-accommodating father. “Drop the weapon.”

“You have ten seconds.”

“He’s not in there.”

“Yes, he is,” Eren growls, getting up in Mike’s face. “Don’t lie, Clifford.”

“Mike,” Levi continues, saturating the name with forced understanding.

“This isn’t you.”

“Five seconds.”

“You’re not a murderer!” Mike barks out, belligerently closing the distance between them. “This isn’t you, I _know_ you. You’re letting the monster win even while knowing that it’s wrong.”

“Don’t even think—” Levi stops, swallows hard against the knot in his throat. “If words would have been enough to stop this, everything would have ended a long time ago.”

“Killing Erwin won’t bring Eren back.”

“ _SHUT UP!_ ” The explosion gets him panting. “Don’t say his name. Neither of you have any right whatsoever to _ever_ speak that name.”

“Let it go, Levi.”

“Get out of the fucking way, Mike.”

Levi lifts the fist holding the knife a fraction of an inch and Mike instantly raises his hands in a defensive stance. No weapon, but he doesn’t need one.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you force me to,” Mike says.

“Not to alarm you or anything,” Eren interrupts, pushing his weight against the rattling bedroom doors. “You might want to hurry the hell up before Smith gets trigger happy.”

He can’t do this.

Mike has nothing to do with this. He doesn’t fit the profile.

_Honor your prey._

What sort of respect can Levi pay if he kills him under these circumstances?

His mind tries to flee but he doesn’t let it. He has to be lucid for this. He can’t afford to lose what little humanity he has left. Mike is important to him. Mike matters. He’s his friend for fuck’s sake.

“Levi!” he hears Eren shout. “I can’t hold the goddamned door!”

Levi risks taking his eyes off Mike for only a hint of a second, and the panic he sees written all over Eren’s face sends him off the rails.

_Pale skin, deep gashes, torn clothing, choking on his blood — the cat is gone, the stove is on…_

Aware that it’s only a memory, Levi is unable to keep himself from reacting to it. The switch has been flipped and the sheer force to protect what’s his blinds him.

Because he couldn’t do it the first time.

He wasn’t there the first time. Levi couldn’t stop it because he wasn’t there. The one time that it mattered, the one time when Eren truly needed him, Levi hadn’t been there. And now he’s here, waddling through mud and shit and driving himself past the point of sanity to atone for the one sin he regrets.

Mike takes the opportunity, and Levi sees no other choice but to retaliate.

His size makes him agile and he’s able to move out of the way when Mike charges. With the knife ready, it’s easy to hit the target. Mike isn’t clumsy by any means, but he isn’t as fast as Levi – who manages to shove the blade into his side and twist.

Knife pulled out, Mike stumbles and manages to crash into the island counter. He frantically presses both his hands against the wound, panting erratically. He tries to get up, and when he finds that he can’t, he tries to crawl over to the front door.

A trail of blood stains the carpet as he moves, sickening Levi. The amount of time he’s put into keeping that very carpet clean over the years. Wasted.

Shaking off the excess blood from his knife and hand, sure that Mike has nowhere to go, he turns for the master bedroom.

No time is wasted. He doesn’t have the luxury to hesitate or even think about this because Erwin is ruthless. He’s heard the commotion. He’s heard Mike cry out in pain, is currently hearing him grunting and groaning from his spot on the kitchen floor.

Erwin won’t blink his cold eyes when he sees that he has no other choice but to put Levi down.

So be it.

They’ll go down together if it comes to that.

Eren moves out of the way as Levi quickly makes for the doorknob. He tries to guess where Erwin would be aiming at, which path would be the less dangerous once he pushes the door open. Regardless, there is no way for him to come out of this ordeal unharmed. Erwin won’t stop. He won’t come down without a fight.

Hand ready to spin the copper knob, Levi seizes all movement.

Willing his heartbeat to calm down, he presses an ear to the warm wood to listen.

Only the hum of the heater and white noise.

No creaks, no groaning floorboards, not even a shuffle.

Levi only hears silence on the other side. A silence so dead that only the despair that manifests itself in his stomach can compare.

Lowering the knife, Levi opens the door to find an empty room.

Of course it’s empty.

The bed is made, the noise machine by the desk is set to its usual unobtrusive tone, and the bathroom door is wide open.

There’s no one here.

Levi isn’t given the chance to ask why when the sound of a loud and undignified whimper breaks through the haze. It comes from the kitchen, and it stops almost instantly.

It all stops, casting eerie silence over the apartment.

Levi is an instrument, and he’s been played with such precision and talent that a masterpiece has been created. A masterpiece he can’t admire.

He walks back into the kitchen, grabs a glass from the strainer and serves himself some water.

He accidentally trips over Mike’s limp foot, sloshing the water over his bloody hand and wrist.

He drinks. He puts the glass down.

“Believe it or not, you’ll come to thank me for this soon enough,” Eren says, nudging Mike’s arm out of the way. “Now, we need to get rid of him.”

Levi blinks time and time again, fighting away the threatening burn in his eyes.

Mike didn’t deserve this.

He didn’t deserve it and Levi can’t find a way to honor him, which is worse. He can’t honor him because he can’t stop yet. Levi was willing to forsake this demented plot but now he can’t. Even if he has to insult Mike, spit on his corpse, Levi will not let his death be in vain.

“Good thing you brought that ax with you.”

Levi looks up at Eren. Mortification has never been this crippling before. “I can’t,” he says, shaking his head. “Not him.”

Eren glares at him and rolls his eyes. “No chickening out. Erwin’s probably on his way back.”

He tries to speak but no words come out.

There isn’t enough energy in him to get angry or to fight.

“Why?” is the only thing he can manage. Strangers are easy pickings. Not friends. “ _Why?_ ”

While rummaging through the pantry, Eren finds a box of black garbage bags. He takes it, pulls out a bag and shrugs. But the shrug isn’t nonchalant. It’s vindictive.

“If you honestly thought that I wasn’t aware of your little game, you were dead wrong,” Eren says. “Just because I don’t know your endgame doesn’t mean I don’t know the rules.”

Levi looks to the floor, at the blood stains that will be practically impossible to remove on a short notice. Much like the stain in his soul.

The worst is yet to come, that final desecration Levi has to orchestrate. Eliminating the evidence in the cruelest and most inhumane fashion seems like the only way to go about this. Just when he thought he could get no lower.

But at least there is hope in the knowledge that Eren doesn’t know yet. He’s lashing out like a scared child because he has no idea what Levi is trying to do. All he has to do is keep up the game for a while longer. Just a little while longer.

Sucking in an even breath, Levi steps over Mike’s body and makes for the front door.

He’s not even worthy of that intake of air.

By this point, Levi doesn’t deserve to live.

“I’ll go get my ax,” he says, surprisingly serene and collected through the whirlwind of self-loathing and damned resignation.

Just because he’s still breathing doesn’t mean he’s still alive.


	20. Kill Your Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't expecting to be able to update before Halloween, but here we are. This chapter has a myriad of warnings, so be sure to check those tags before proceeding. Thank you all for the tons of love. ♥
> 
> Not much else to say other than one more chapter to go!

Eren watches him from a corner of the cell, his face colored with irritation. He resembles a little boy about to throw a tantrum and Levi braces for it, popping a handful of peanuts into his mouth before he can be stopped.

Petra has left them again to take a personal call.

Levi feels no better about the things he did to Mike, even after revealing where the chopped up little pieces of him are hidden. That’s unclean blood on his hands. Unclean and monstrous blood that can’t be washed away no matter how much he scrubs. May he never find peace in the afterlife for it.

Thumb and forefinger rub together, rolling tiny grains of salt between them.

The clock keeps ticking, nearing the eleventh hour.

“Bet it’s eating you up from inside,” Levi says, sucking his fingers clean. “That you weren’t the one to pull the trigger on me.”

“The allergy won’t kick in in time. They'll fry you before your throat even begins to itch.”

“How much do you want to bet?”

“I think you’re forgetting the extent of my power.”

Levi looks up at Eren, shaking his head. “You won’t be able to keep me alive long enough.”

“I’ll tell you what.” Scratching under his chin, Eren smirks. “Let’s speed up the process until you can no longer breathe, just teetering over the edge of cardiac arrest and then I’ll… stop your clock.” He snaps his fingers. “Since you’re in the business of offing yourself, I’ll grant you a chance to cling to death for a couple of minutes until you’re seated upon your electric throne. Hm? How’s that?” Eren saunters over to Levi with a spring in his step. “And just before they flip the switch, I’ll let the clock run again. That way you can suffocate to death seconds before you become one with a few thousand volts.”

The eeriness lies in the whispered quality of Eren’s voice. The intimacy it mocks, like a tender touch that promises him peace and comfort before gutting him.

It thrills him.

“You will do no such thing,” Levi murmurs right back, leaning forward invitingly. “Because you’re the fool who grew fond of a human.”

The way Eren’s nostrils flare is almost amusing if it weren’t so terrifying.

He squats down in front of Levi, digging nails into his knees.

“Keep provoking me and I’ll make it much worse for you,” he says, allowing his hands to run up Levi’s thighs.

“You’re turning me on,” Levi confesses. He deserves a special spot in Hell with his name on it.

“You sick fuck,” Eren whispers, leaning up to press a kiss to Levi’s mouth. “Think I can go down on you before you go up?”

“I said you’re turning me on, not that I want to go.” Both of them look down at Levi’s crotch. “I doubt I could get it up under these circumstances.”

“A shame.” Eren gives him another kiss. “Time’s running out.”

Levi tries but doesn’t succeed in hiding a tiny smile. He’s never awaited the arrival of something this anxiously, not even when he stood at the altar dressed in a tuxedo. If he looks hard enough, he’s certain he can find some sort of symbolism in the comparison.

The cellblock doors open and the clip-clip-clip of heels follow.

Petra, no longer wearing her blazer, announces: “I just got off the phone with Mrs. Jaeger.” Somehow, Levi isn’t surprised. “She doesn’t blame you for her son’s death.”

The way she says it, crisp and unbelieving, shocks him almost as much as the thought of Carla taking his side in the debate. In all of this, he hadn’t realized that Petra too thought him responsible for Eren’s murder, despite her attempts to be civil and understanding.

Let them put him to sleep thinking whatever they want, but there’s one life Levi has yet to end in this world.

“I know who killed Eren,” he says, sticking what’s left of the peanuts into his mouth and scrunching up the wrapper. “Carla’s instincts never let me down. I knew he had gotten it from someone.”

Petra looks up at the clock, calculating how much time they have left. A little over an hour, now, and that is all the time Levi needs to finish his story.

“All right,” she says, stepping close to the cell. “Tell me who did it.”

Eren gives Levi a smug look because he knows what’s coming up next. “You’re really going to tell her, aren’t you? You traitor.”

They are all traitors here.

“I learned about all different kinds of religions during the past couple of months. I still can’t decide which one feels more real,” Levi says. “Maybe because my parents were Catholic, I found myself looking up to the crucified Christ a lot more. The ultimate act of love. I wonder if He would have done it anyways if the Father hadn’t instructed it.”

Petra’s face contorts into a mixture of confusion and pity, but it slowly morphs into something else. _Incredulity. Mistrust._

Levi nods, answering the unasked question. “I did what I had to do. True, I went in blind, with an entirely different list of reasons but in the end…”

“You were always bad at riddles,” Petra says, hushed and nearly hostile by this point. “What were you trying to do when they found you?”

Eren smiles at Levi, a big, fond smile that tells of admiration. “What you had to do,” he reassures him, squeezing Levi’s knee. “Failed at it, but at least you tried.”

Levi looks down at the hand, at the wedding band that no longer belongs on that spectral finger.

“Levi?”

He looks at her.

“I was trying to kill my god.”

•••

Lying back on his office couch, Levi takes a slow drag from his blunt and lets his arm fall away with a relaxed sigh.

His limbs are warm and slack, comfortable even within the confines of expensive fabric. Part of him wants to take advantage of the downtime and sleep, but another part insists he stay awake for a little while longer and enjoy the bliss.

Besides, it’s rude to pass out while being deep-throated.

Levi groans, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile as the wet walls of Eren’s mouth slide down on his strained flesh. A tongue laps at the tip, circles the shaft.

Bless Eren for not needing to breathe.

Also bless the fingers that fuck him, working him open for Eren’s cock.

Levi is turned into a mess as he just lays there, taking whatever Eren dishes out. His attention is intimately sensual for once; careful and consuming as he mouths at Levi’s clothed stomach. Eren’s movements are careful, torturously slow, but deliciously enlightening.

Time shifts for him, and he isn’t sure if it goes faster or slower.

The details aren’t all there, of how he went from being on his back to kneeling on the couch. He’s hugging the armrest, the side of his face sticking to the leather while moaning like a wanton whore, but it feels oh so _good_.

Eren’s fingertips dig into his hips as he forces himself to keep slow, but Levi doesn’t give him the chance. Levi orders him to waste no time, to refrain from being careful because there is nothing sweet and tender about them. Levi wants to get fucked thoroughly and completely until he can no longer remember how to speak English.

The demands are met.

Shameless, Levi doesn’t bother keeping quiet. He begs for it, to have his ass fucked raw. To have his cock pumped dry. To be left delirious and so fucked out that his exhaustion will make him laugh like a madman until unconsciousness overtakes him.

Levi wants to forget about the bloodied ax he hid in Erwin’s pantry.

Levi wants to forget about the black bag he threw in the lake just off the interstate, with the diced remains of his friend.

But the thoughts are there now, warping his perception and causing pain rather than pleasure. Pain he gets off on. Agony that makes his dick throb while Eren jacks it with dry hands.

He has leverage. Levi has power. The situation is under his absolute control now, and there is only one thing left to do.

Let Eren pound him until he orgasms, until come stains the couch and nothing but the garbled sound of a name rips half-choked from his mouth.

“God, _fuck!_ ” Eren laughs out from behind, stroking Levi through orgasm. “Oh fuck, fuck…–! You’re so fucking tight. Look at all that come. Just for me, right?”

Levi nods as best he can, unable to be repulsed by the splotch of saliva he’s left on the leather.

He keeps still until Eren gets his fill, pumping him full and pulling out. Levi never expected to enjoy the feeling of hot semen trickling down his thighs and soiling his pants.

“You look so good when you’re wrecked,” Eren says, slapping Levi’s ass before stroking the red mark he leaves behind. “Always so good for me.” Chest to Levi’s back, Eren sucks a bruise onto his neck, and covers it with his shirt collar.

The office door clicks open but Levi doesn’t hurry to move. It’s late enough for everyone to have gone home, and the only person who would stick around after hours is Erwin.

As expected, he steps inside and quickly shuts the door behind him. At the _I’m not even going to ask_ look, Levi straightens up on the couch. He doesn’t bother pulling up his pants just yet. The two of them have come this far, might as well let Erwin see the less graceful side of his dive-bomb into hell.

“I recall saying I didn’t want anyone in the building after seven,” Erwin says, walking to the couch and picking up the blunt Levi hadn’t realized he’d dropped. “That includes you.”

Levi flips him off. “Fuck off.”

“People are going to start talking if they notice it.”

“Notice what? That the CEO is fucking the vice-president? Bending him over his desk once everyone’s fucked off? A little too late for that.”

Erwin puts the blunt to his lips and takes a long, slow drag. He holds it, before letting it go in the form of a sigh. “You’re angry.”

“And high, for the record.” Levi bounces his knee when his ass starts to get cold. “I’m angry because you were supposed to cover for me, not throw me under the goddamned bus.”

The blunt gets placed on a glass ashtray on top of Levi’s desk. “I’ve done no such thing.”

“You insinuated that I killed him.”

“Did that strike a nerve?”

Levi’s eye widen, unbelieving. “Yes, Erwin. Yes, it did. It struck a lot of nerves because _I didn’t kill my husband,_ you fucking fuck.”

“I haven’t been able to get in contact with Mike.”

_Ah._

Erwin leans against the edge of Levi’s desk. His knee is bouncing too, fingers drumming against his thigh. He’s jittery, and that doesn’t sit well with Levi. This man is supposed to be a rock. Nothing ever gets to him. Nothing destroys him, nor does anything get under his skin.

“Assuming you’ve already tried calling his phone, have you tried emailing? His parents?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Erwin shakes his head. The gesture looks human for once. “His phone’s off the grid so GPS is out of the question.”

“I don’t think he’d appreciate you stalking him.”

“It’s not stalking,” he says, giving Levi a sharp glare. “Not a call, not a note. This isn’t how he does things, even if he’s pissed at me.”

“Guy probably just needs a break. Fuck knows I need one.”

“You’re not obligated to clock in.”

“Not from work,” Levi says. He finally stands up and re-dresses himself, trying hastily to ignore the feeling of drying come on his legs. Eren is nowhere to be seen. “Life in general.” He heads over to stand next to Erwin and picks up the blunt to take another drag. “Mike’s like a retriever. He’ll come back if he wants to.”

“Thank you for the inspiring words.”

Their words die out when Levi put a hand to Erwin’s face and pries his lips open with his thumb. Forehead to forehead, Levi blows the smoke into his mouth before sealing the exchange with a kiss.

“You don’t deserve my compassion,” Levi says.

“You don’t deserve mine,” Erwin says.

The kiss that follows embodies every fracture, every gaping wound, every lie – everything that is and has ever been wrong with them. It’s harsh and savage, more teeth than tongue or lips. It’s angry, and hateful.

And most likely their last.

Erwin holds the sides of Levi’s neck as he closes the space between them, shoves his tongue into Levi’s mouth without a hint of gentleness or romance. His nails dig into the tender skin there, skin that had been bruised just moments ago.

Levi keens, pushes himself closer to the heat of Erwin’s body. A body he once loved and still does if he looks close enough. The body that has destroyed what little was left of him.

This temple of idolatry Levi has desecrated time and time again.

It’s time to set it ablaze.

Erwin is the one who pulls away, hiding his face behind his hand in shame. Shame Levi understands because he’s been there one too many times.

By this point, Erwin must know that the odds of finding Mike alive are slim. And if he’s accepted that fact, then Erwin knows who the culprit is.

“Go home, Levi,” he says, almost mumbling. “Just go home and never come back.”

Levi presses their foreheads together again, allows his hands to touch Erwin’s chest. “How do you expect me to live off unemployment checks? That house isn’t cheap.”

“Burn the goddamned place down and collect the insurance money.”

“And if I chose to burn it down with me in it?”

The silence that follows is weighty and absolute, like a cemetery in the dead of night.

“That would be the best decision you’ve had made in a while.”

Levi’s only reply is to close his eyes, because he can’t help feeling that maybe Erwin is right. Maybe that is the best course of action once this tragicomedy lets the curtains drop. No one is laughing anymore; might as well end the play.

Predictably, Erwin is once more the first to break contact.

Levi stares at his back as he crosses the office towards the door, his heart twisting when Erwin walks out and doesn’t bother giving him one more look. Not a word, nothing. Years tossed down the drain over the course of six minutes and the click of a lock.

The office is too big and empty despite the clutter. The silence that rings in his ears is enough to be maddening. The place feels cold and it seeps into his bones, making his body ache. Heavy and tired, Levi wishes he could sleep.

He can sleep when he’s dead, he decides, which isn’t going to be that late in the game. Once again he remembers that he has a job to do, unfinished business.

Levi sits behind his desk and sighs, reluctantly repeating Erwin’s words again and again. Each one digs a deeper trench in him.

So this is what it means to be truly forsaken. The numbness is more horrifying than any kind of sadness he could ever expect.

Unanswered prayers are typically the reason why believers stray from their paths. Gods are supercilious like that. They demand one’s constant worship and when the hour of need comes, they demand more obedience and loyalty with nothing in return. No comfort, just false reassurances and empty promises.

Gods are useless. Especially mortal ones.

An orgasm and a high wasted, Levi ponders how to approach this.

The plan had been decided days ago, but now Erwin knows what’s coming. He’ll be ready for Levi in the simplest way possible. It would be a surprise if he walks out of the building and doesn’t find a police squad armed to the teeth just waiting for him. But that’s not his modus operandi. Erwin is discreet. He’s personal.

He’ll be waiting in his apartment for Levi to show up. Levi, with a tail between his legs and looking to be welcomed once more despite his bruised ego.

Erwin’s pride is his weakness, and Levi will play into it.

Lifting the hem of his pants, Levi removes his knives and throws them in the desk drawer. He disposes all of his weapons, including the new 9MM he usually carries in his briefcase.

His phone is turned off and placed beside the ashtray.

The only thing Levi keeps on him when he walks out the building is his wedding ring, however bad of an idea this might be. He has one ace up his sleeve and if it fails he’s as good as dead. If he triumphs, he’s still as good as dead.

They have said their goodbyes, which means it really is the end for one of them or for both.

Either way, there’s a wooden pedestal in the trunk of Levi’s car and a heavy ax hidden in a dark niche of a million dollar apartment. And both have Smith’s name written on them.

•••

Levi double parks in front of the apartment building and leaves the flashers on. He would have parked in the alleyway but it’s raining cats and dogs tonight. The last thing he needs is soggy socks and squelching feet while transporting his equipment inside.

He waits for the expected detachment to set in, but nothing happens as he jogs up the stairs rather than taking the elevator. He feels perfectly fine, only angry. Enraged, even. The way in which he’s clung to that feeling is what’s kept him going, what brought him here.

Levi hums an old song he recalls hearing Eren and Erwin sing – badly – while sharing a shower a few years back. It’s another one of those oldies Erwin is so embarrassingly fond of, the ones that get burned out on the radio through the years. Levi can’t remember its name or most of its lyrics, but he remembers the somber tune.

_And this house just ain’t no home… anytime she goes away._

Oddly enough, it reminds him of his childhood. A lonely and broken childhood hidden behind the guise of a warm and stable home.

Not much has changed through the decades. One could say that he was destined to eventually walk down this path, widowed, disturbed, and vengeful. His mother would be twisting in her grave.

Reaching the landing, Levi casts a careful look around. No police, but the red light on the security cameras are off.

He considers whether or not returning to his car and getting at least a pocket knife would be best because something does not seem right.

Levi decides against it. He needs to appear harmless and be honest. Erwin can smell a lie a mile away, and he can’t risk spoiling everything for the sake of momentary relief.

Standing before the door, he lingers there before making his presence known in any way. He’s hesitating for reasons he can’t name, despite the entire list that hangs over his head. The choice has been made. There is only one outcome when two destructive forces are on a collision course, and no possibly way to stop them.

Levi knocks twice.

During the time it takes for Erwin to answer the door, he regrets not having brought a cigarette with him.

Unlike Mike’s careful approach to Levi’s presence, Erwin opens the door all the way.

He’s still partially dressed in today’s work clothes, blazer, tie, and shoes gone. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, the first couple of buttons undone. His hair is mussed.

The man looks just as tired as Levi feels, but it isn’t enough to make Levi take back his earlier words about compassion. His mind says that Erwin doesn’t deserve Levi’s animosity for not taking his side, not after doing what he did to Mike. In fact, Levi deserves all of the scorn Erwin can possibly muster. But a lie is a lie and a betrayal is a betrayal. There are plans that need to be set in motion, and Levi can’t afford calling them off.

Erwin gestures him in and Levi does so, idling as the door is shut behind him.

“Wine?” he offers, heading into the lounge rather than the kitchen. Over the small table in front of the fireplace are two glasses and a bottle of sherry. “I expected you earlier.”

Hands in his pockets, Levi takes a look around the room in search of anything telling. He stops in front of the lounge window, the one that faces the skyline. “I needed some time to brood,” he says, hawking the reflections in the glass.

There isn’t a single star in the sky thanks to the heavy cover of rain clouds. The night would almost feel cozy if Levi hadn’t been here with the intention to butcher the man serving him a drink.

Erwin almost chuckles, a sound that isn’t quite drunk. “Now that’s something I find hard to believe.” After stirring his own drink, he takes a small sip. “Are you here to argue with me?”

“You tell me.” Levi walks to the table and grabs his glass; downs it in one go. “Since, apparently, you know me well enough to predict when I’d crawl back begging to suck your dick.”

Attention focused on his glass, theatrically avoiding Levi’s gaze, Erwin leans against the armrest of his couch. He lets out a sigh and rubs the corners of his eyes. “What I said—”

“You meant,” Levi interrupts. “A burden is a burden and you’re not the type to sugar coat things.” Putting his glass down on the table, he walks to stand in front of the fireplace. “I’m a grown man. I’m not about to go slit my wrists just because you tell me to.”

Erwin makes a noncommittal sound that is almost amused. “I feel like an idiot for fearing otherwise.”

“That’s because you are an idiot.” Levi isn’t sure if he means the fondness he portrays or not.

“Maybe so. I did fire you, didn’t I?” Erwin finishes his wine. “It isn’t a joke when I say that I can’t have you on my property anymore.” Licking his lips, he gives Levi a pitiful smile. “After tonight, I don’t want to see you anymore. Do I make myself clear?”

Levi catches his gaze for the first time tonight. “Inescapably.”

Face to face, both of them look away again. The atmosphere may not be awkward, but it feels discordant, much like looking at overlaying images that don’t quite match up. Then, the sensation of being watched sets in.

No one but them is in the apartment, not even Eren.

The feeling disturbs him to the point of anxiety, and he has to actively fight the desire to run out of the building and into his car.

Something isn’t right. The room is cold. Someone is watching him.

He needs to get out right now or else…—

Erwin breaks the frantic train of thought when he closes the distance, taking Levi into his arms and holding him tight against his chest. His hands cradle the back of Levi’s head as he kisses his clammy forehead, gently rocking them to and fro.

“I’m so sorry it has all come to this,” Erwin says, softly, against Levi’s hair.

The feeling of horror doesn’t subside. Erwin is unable to give him the comfort he once so selflessly gave.

“You deserve so much more than this Hell you’ve been put through,” he continues.

Levi is desperate to leave but when he tries to pull away, Erwin holds fast.

_Tick…_

_Tick…_

His watch rests just over Levi’s ear as he brings him closer.

_Tick…_

_Tick..._

_Tick..._

Bringing up his hands and placing them over Erwin’s chest, Levi pushes and finds no give at all.

“Let me go.”

“Levi—”

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” Levi pushes harder, begins to struggle when he finds himself trapped in an iron grip he knows he won’t be able to get free from unless he plays dirty.

“Good,” Erwin whispers, condescendingly smiling down at him. “Now, hush. The less you struggle, the quicker this will be.”

A punch to the stomach would have been easier to handle.

The amount of effort to not tremble is colossal as fear latches onto him, disabling him from doing anything at all. This unknown is darker than the endless halls of his house, more tangible now that Erwin is its host. It’s terrifying and deep enough to drown in; the sensation of not knowing what is going on. This is different than missing time. This is worse.

Levi opens his mouth to yell at Erwin, but something pressing into his lower back stops him.

He isn’t sure what he had been expecting.

The police, perhaps. A legion of monsters, maybe.

Not this.

Attempting a step back, the knife digs deeper into him.

_Breathe._

He can breathe now that he knows the danger. There is a chance for him to defend himself.

The blade makes a terrible noise as it slips its way up the fabric of Levi’s jacket, and comes to rest at the base of his skull. The pressure is enough to break skin, the sting making him uncomfortable.

How Erwin can maintain a perfectly pleasant face is beyond him. Then again, he figures he’s been doing the same for months. Practice makes perfect, and the thought doesn’t ease him.

“I’m not going to harm you,” Levi says, seizing his struggle. He doesn’t rest his body against Erwin’s, but neither does he try to pull away. “You can lower the damn thing.”

The knife digs deeper.

“A shame,” Erwin says, lacing his words with a well-practiced leer. “My blood’s been craving a struggle as of late. I figured that you of all people would put up one. Are you that desperate to die?”

Swallowing harshly, Levi glares at him until realization dawns on him.

Erwin isn’t doing this in self-defense.

A slow smile spreads across those godlike features, filled with warmth and brutality. “There it is,” he says, glad that Levi has finally seen it.

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Cut me out of the picture and the only person on the roster would be you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Erwin says, walking them both to the nearest wall. The knife slides its way to the front of his neck when Levi’s shoved up next to a painting. “Give myself a bruise or two and I’ll claim self-defense. Their monster is dead. Case closed.”

Levi scoffs but otherwise remains unmoving. “Traitor.”

“I can’t have you blabbering about things that don’t concern anyone else but me, you see?” Erwin brings the knife down until it snags on the collar of Levi’s shirt. “My company’s getting enough shit thanks to your little killing spree, Levi. I can’t afford any more black marks on my record.”

“So you won’t sell me out, but you’d kill me in order to protect your company?” It shouldn’t surprise Levi, it really shouldn’t. What surprises him is that Erwin would do such a thing to him, of all people.

“I _care_ for you, Levi. We all do. This… this madness, this sickness, it’s destroyed you. Can’t you see it?”

“That’s my goddamned problem, you prick.”

Erwin’s face softens into a pitiful gesture. “Oh, no, it’s been my problem from the start.”

“Yeah, fucking the unstable one. Excellent therapy, if you ask me.”

“You misunderstand, my love.” When Erwin closes his eyes, Levi holds his breath.

He knows that he won’t like whatever comes out of Erwin’s mouth. The terror that has faded into numbness will turn to rage and he can feel the anticipation in his bones.

A sickening thought is whispered in the back of his mind. Just a feeling of what it might be that Erwin will say.

It’s preposterous, unreal and silly. This must be his own unbalanced mind trying to add to Erwin’s sins, to make Levi hate him. There is no other explanation for it. There can’t be.

_It’s been his problem from the start…_

When Erwin sighs, Levi’s body goes limp against the wall.

Of course.

_Of course._

Erwin had the perfect alibi.

Erwin was the rock, the sanctuary, the god.

Who would look to him and point an accusing finger, at the embodiment of perfection, an Adonis, their leader?

Hiding in plain sight all of this time. The very man who played as Levi’s makeshift therapist, his most intimate confidant that so actively searched for ways to fix him.

“Son of a bitch,” is all Levi can say. He doesn’t have the strength to be angry, to fight the way he wants to. “You cold, soulless son of a bitch. He never did anything to you! He never did anything to you!”

 _Breaking his favorite tea cup, the death of his first pet, losing the pendant his grandmother had given him, the school principal closing the door behind them…—_ Levi remembers every single incident that harmed him, that scarred him in some sort of way in vivid detail. He remembers the pain, the grief, the sorrow, the despair, feeling like there is just no way out of the bottom of the bottle.

He remembers being too cowardly to pull the trigger on himself, to take too much heroin, to walk into traffic.

There is pain and then there is nothing, but that doesn’t stop him. Levi sobs.

He cries like a child afraid of the dark, or a child that has gotten lost in a crowd of scary people. There is nothing sadder; _nothing sadder._

Erwin lets the knife fall away but he doesn’t move, attentively looking at Levi.

“Punishment.”

That single word sounds so simple, so bland that Levi feels renewed vigor. He could strangle him and not blink.

“We gave you a choice,” Levi says, voice breaking as he tries to get the hurricane of emotions under control. “We all had a choice in this. You could have said something! We could have worked something out, goddammit! You were the one that walked out on me in the end. You replaced me with Mike.”

“I didn’t replace you with anybody because I let you go years ago,” Erwin snaps, grabbing a fistful of Levi’s shirt and slamming him against the wall. “I invited Eren into _my_ home. You should have known better than to fuck around with my claims.”

Levi rams his shoulder into Erwin’s chest, sending him tumbling backwards. He’s on him without hesitation, driven by fury he had no idea he was capable of. Time moves quickly as he tries his best to subdue Erwin but it’s no use, his height is too much of a disadvantage.

Biting Erwin’s wrist hard enough to make it bleed, he’s unwillingly let go from the vice grip.

Moving quickly, Levi makes sure to put a couch between them.

Jaw clenched and nails digging into his palms, Levi ignores the hot tears of absolute wrath that stain his cheeks. Forget running away, he won’t rest until Erwin has tasted his own filthy blood.

“There’s my little feral animal,” Erwin coos, rubbing his bitten wrist. “Honestly, I expected you to figure it out sooner. I’m mildly disappointed.”

“He was my husband,” Levi says, his mouth twitching into a sardonic smirk. “We welcomed you into our home when we didn’t need to and this… this is what you do? You throw a fucking hissy fit because you wanted someone else’s toy, one that was willing to be shared? What’s the fucking sense? The logic?”

“I would rather see him dead than in your arms, Levi. He deserved better than you. He deserved someone who could give him what he needed, not just what he wanted.”

“You killed him!” Levi yells, because it sounds like Erwin is missing a key thing here. “You _killed_ him! What could have possibly pushed you so far over the edge, Erwin? Fucking tell me.”

Head thoughtfully tipped to the side, he says: “Nothing really. I’ve done worse for less.”

Levi gags, clutching at his stomach when a severe bout of nausea kicks in. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Good boys don’t become CEOs. I’ve told you this already.”

“How many more?” He fears the answer, fears that this is the man he’s entrusted his life to. “How long?”

“Enough,” he says, twirling the knife between his fingers. “High school, if you mean people.”

“Oh, my god.”

“It doesn’t control me. It’s not a sickness of the mind, or some uncontrollable desire to retake the reins of a battered childhood.” That last bit is mocking. “I choose and I choose carefully. However it most suits my needs.”

The fact that Levi could not have seen this only deepens the terror. He welcomed this man into his house, his bed, his life. Levi was so certain that he knew every little thing there was to know about Erwin, down to the tiniest, darkest crevice buried under tons of arrogance.

“You cut down whoever stands in your way,” Levi says, not in the form of a question. “Why?”

Bringing up the hand holding the knife, Erwin lifts a finger for each thing he mentions. “Money, power, glory.”

The memory appears in Levi’s head like a flash, the pieces finally falling together.

Twelve years ago, he recalls a scandal that involved the name Darius Zackly, Erwin’s predecessor. The details are foggy, but evidence had been found that connected the man to one of the underground’s biggest drug rings. Obviously Darius had denied it, fought to prove his innocence, but not even a week after the news had gotten out, the police had found his decapitated body in his bathroom floor.

No one really knows how Erwin was chosen to be the successor, but now Levi has a pretty damn good idea.

That aside, there is another, far grizzlier thought forming.

“And your father?” Levi dares to ask.

No one really talks about Erwin’s family, the prominent rumor being that he was estranged at a young age when his mother became sick after her husband’s death. He’s starting to see there is a good reason for that cone of silence.

“Like I said,” he pauses to give a faint shrug. “High school.”

At a loss of how to react to this new information, Levi remains perfectly still.

Erwin scratches his chin nonchalantly. “One would figure that after all that you have done, you would know better than to look at me so judgmentally.”

“I didn’t kill these people because I wanted to.”

“Tell me why you did it then.” He takes a step forward while Levi takes two steps back. “How are you different from me? What justifies your actions yet condemns my own?”

“You know why.”

“Because a _ghost_ whispered in your ear?” Erwin’s mouth twitches in his effort to hide a smirk. “As if, somehow, you would be able to get payback… how? I still fail to see the logic in your plan.”

“My plan doesn’t concern you anymore.”

“You plan concerns no one,” Erwin says, wagging the knife as if Levi could forget its presence. “The only way you’ll get out of here is in a body bag, Levi. No more ghosts, no more senseless murder.”

“I don’t doubt it, but I’m not going out until I have your fucking heart between my teeth.” For all of the ferocity in Levi’s words, he knows he’s not making himself seem like a threat as he inches away from Erwin. He needs to make it to the pantry: bottom shelf, behind the baking goods.

“I fucking hate that I can’t find it in me to hate you,” Levi says, facing him at all times. “I hate that a part of me wants to rationalize this and give you the benefit of the doubt but… you killed Eren. Now, I don’t give a shit who else’s name you’ve got under your belt, but Eren Jaeger is one that shouldn’t be there. And you’re going to pay dearly for that.”

“You’ll be choking on your blood before you can even lay a finger on me.”

“Let’s see who’s faster.”

Levi doesn’t wait for Erwin to move, swinging his arm back to slam open the pantry door. He turns his sight away for a split second, pushing boxes and equipment out of the way and reaching for his ax – but he takes too long.

His heart rams against his chest when he feels Erwin grab him by the hair and fling him against the island, its edge slamming into Levi’s side and knocking the air out of him.

“Clearly, I am,” Erwin says, not a single hair out of place. His tone is that same pleasant timbre, his smile gentle. “Also, concealing weapons in someone else’s home is rude.”

Levi kicks out, but Erwin catches his ankle. He’s able to pull it free before getting it twisted, but Erwin manages to rake his nails against his skin, causing it to burn.

“Eren put far less of a fight.”

“Shut up.”

“Always too trusting, too gentle.”

Limping around the island, keeping it between Erwin and him, Levi spits on it. “Prick.”

“His skin was so soft.”

“Stop it.”

“He didn’t even call your name,” Erwin says, eyes glossy with an emotion Levi can’t name. Satisfaction, maybe. Nostalgia. “He didn’t ask for you. You never crossed his mind when I took care of him. Of course, I have to live with the sense of betrayal I saw in his eyes, the sadness, but it was for me. All for me.”

Levi sneers, casting brief glances around the room for any sort of object he can get his hands on.

Lightning crashes just outside the window, causing the power to surge.

It only lasts about a second or two, just enough for Levi to grab an ornament from the expensive arrangement sitting on the island countertop. The stainless steel cube is heavier than Levi expected it to be, making it all the better.

When the lights come back on, Erwin has moved dangerously closer, but Levi is able to stumble several steps back.

“Tell me something,” Erwin says, circling the island as if the two of them were trapped in a twisted, violent waltz. “You’re smarter than a lot of people give you credit for. You’re cunning, fast… Why did you choose to be so sloppy with your victims?”

Levi switches the cube from one hand to the other when his palms start sweating, but doesn’t answer the question.

The silence makes Erwin think. “You want to be caught,” he says slowly, the gears in his head turning. He looks confused. “Why?”

“You said this was of no concern to anyone.”

Erwin sighs and puts down the knife, but the relief is short lived. From the back of his pants, he pulls out a handgun, one he doesn’t hesitate on removing the safety and aiming point blank.

Instinct tells Levi to raise his hands, but pride keeps him from moving. The knot in his throat makes it hard to breathe, let alone think of another course of action. He’s cornered and he doesn’t like it, but anger and rash actions will get him nowhere.

The gun doesn’t waver as Erwin walks towards Levi, confident that he won’t try anything stupid.

“Don’t try to be cute,” he warns, getting close enough so that the barrel is snug against Levi’s temple. “I asked you a question.”

The gun smells of oil, and it feels cold against his skin. It’s been properly kept and tended to, and something about that sets Levi at ease.

“And I gave you a fucking answer.”

Erwin jams it harder, making Levi wince and lift his head.

Still, Erwin’s face remains its collected self. It causes a sea of conflicted emotions that is far worse than the dread he feels.

“Nothing is going to keep me from pulling the trigger,” Erwin says, whispered in the form of a lullaby. “If you think I won’t, then you ought to think again.”

Gripping the cube until its edges cut into his fingers, Levi leans into the gun in one last act of defiance.

“Then do it.”

The words trigger something in Erwin, the façade finally cracking and revealing a twisted sneer that reminds Levi of a man possessed.

This is his chance, his opening.

Erwin’s weakness comes in the form of blindness whenever wrath overtakes him, and Levi uses this to his advantage.

Smacking the gun out of his hand, Levi grabs his shirt and pulls him down just as he drives his knee into Erwin’s stomach. It’s nowhere near enough to bring him down, but it’s a start.

Erwin tries to grab Levi by the arm, but quickly moving out of the way Levi jams his open palm into his ribs. His fingers instantly protest, but Erwin doubles over with a hiss, bringing him to the perfect level.

Levi rams the cube into the side of Erwin’s head, but to his dismay, it only causes him to cry out in pain. Skin split, blood running down Erwin’s cheeks, all Levi now has is a very pissed off serial killer.

Determined to get the upper hand, Levi dives for the handgun, but Erwin is on him like a beast, pinning him to the floor and desperately clawing for his neck. Levi tries to kick him off but it’s no use, he’s too heavy and big to even budge from this position.

Erwin tries to reach for the gun without loosening his hold but it proves difficult for him, and Levi makes sure to make it worse. He struggles to free himself, breaking Erwin’s concentration time after time.

A well aimed elbow to Levi’s chest and he’s left wheezing for air, giving Erwin enough time to reach up for the gun. But the position leaves him vulnerable, and Levi does the only thing he can think of.

Teeth bared, he latches onto Erwin’s neck and viciously bites down. He puts enough pressure into the bite to feel things snap and break underneath his skin, and the yell that follows is near deafening. Levi clenches his jaw further, digging in his teeth until he can taste blood, showing no mercy whatsoever.

Pushing Levi down with a hand, Erwin tries to get away from him as fresh blood gushes out of the wound, and Levi seizes the opportunity.

“Nothing personal,” he says, grabbing the cube that clunked away and ramming it into the very same temple, twice as hard as before.

Erwin tries to smack it away, to regain control, but not again. Levi is free and he won’t back down until he leaves this place victorious. He came here with a very strict intention, and he won’t leave without fulfilling it.

Levi bludgeons him.

He drives down the cube with months of pent up anger and years of deep-rooted betrayal. He delivers a blow for every name that has passed on, for every lie and every ounce of agony.

Levi beats until his face is a bloody mess, until Erwin is struggling to breathe and open his eyes.

But he doesn’t kill him.

Not yet.

Levi has one last gift for Erwin, one born out of love and respect.

A gift fit for a god.

•••

Levi moves quickly as he takes various trips to his car.

Nobody stops to offer help under the torrential rain, or much less ask what he’s doing. In fact, it looks like the entire building is devoid of life. Levi takes it as a sign to work faster because now he knows, with certainty, that something has been set up. Whatever it might be, he needs to get this done fast.

Standing at the door of the master bedroom, soaked to the bone, with four wooden shafts and a toolbox by his feet, Levi tries sorting out how to do this. Erwin is too heavy and he’s pressed on time, so he’ll have to improvise on his previous idea.

Only the best of the best are offered as sacrifices. The best sheep, the best cow, the best pig; all of them mounted over an altar and set aflame.

But Erwin’s sacrifice isn’t that of an animal’s.

The bed covers are removed and thrown haphazardly into a corner, leaving only the bare white bed sheet to cover the mattress. Picking up the wood, Levi throws them onto the bed and arranges them with one of their ends locking into place. Twine in hand, he strengthens the intersection by tying it up.

He takes a step back to admire his simple yet thoughtful structure.

Outstanding how people in the modern age choose to hang a torture device from their necks, be it because it holds a reminder of the so called Ultimate Sacrifice, or because it suits their darker aesthetic. Whatever their reason, Levi will never stop seeing a cross for what it is.

Uncaring of the splinters now embedded in his fingertips, Levi bends down to pick up a slowly-waking Erwin in a fireman’s lift.

He drops him onto the bed, mindful to not cause any more damage. Levi rolls him until he’s awkwardly splayed over the cross, head towards the foot of the bed, and uses the tie wraps to fasten his wrists and feet accordingly.

Sure that there is no possible way for Erwin to escape, Levi goes into the living room to fetch his suitcase.

After this, there will be no use for his knives. He might as well put them through a final performance.

Contents of the suitcase all over the table, liner from the interior ripped off, Levi takes three of his most prized blades. Each one has its own marvelously ingenious story to tell, and it’s only fair to use high quality tools when Levi has spared no expense.

Back in the bedroom, Levi stops when he spots Erwin staring blearily at the ceiling. He keeps squinting and squeezing his eyes shut, unable to tell what is going on. When he pulls at his arms and discovers that he’s unable to budge at all, he panics.

“Hush,” Levi says, kneeling by Erwin’s head. He cradles it between his hands, thumbs caressing the sharp cheekbones. “I’m here.”

Glossy eyes clear an in instant, creating a murderous frown that looks amusing upside down.

Levi chuckles, pressing a lingering kiss to Erwin’s mouth. What he receives in return is a bite that breaks skin. Levi reciprocates.

“You know, I seriously came here to apologize for roping you into this mess.” Levi nuzzles the side of Erwin’s face, slowly dragging his teeth through the bloodied skin. “Now you can go fuck yourself.”

“They’ll eventually catch you.”

“I know.” Taking one of the knives with him, Levi stands up and walks over to Erwin’s left hand. “And when they do, it’s death row.”

He doesn’t give Erwin the benefit of a warning, letting him watch as he drives the knife through his open palm, nailing him to the wooden post.

Levi feels nothing. He hears nothing. Maybe Erwin screams, maybe he doesn’t – he doesn’t know. And he quite honestly does not care.

“Don’t – not even for a moment – think that I am not aware that you’ve called the cops.”

Second knife in hand, Levi drags it along the fabric of Erwin’s shirt. He carefully caresses his neck with it before continuing on to the other hand, which is flailing to be freed.

“They can kill me ten times over,” Levi says, threading his fingers through Erwin’s own and forcing his hand open. “But that sure as hell is not going to stop me.”

This time, Levi watches Erwin clench his teeth in anticipation. He entire body jerks and writhes with desperation, but he doesn’t make a sound when the blade pierces his palm. He swallows his whimpers, breathing like an enraged bull.

The red of his blood looks charming against the paleness of his skin.

Another type of red catches the corner of his eye, the color presenting itself as nothing but a solid dot.

Levi turns towards the source and is met face to face with a mirror, the red dot a moving reflection coming from somewhere outside.

Levi doesn’t move, doesn’t dare to breathe when the dot moves again, settling itself right in the middle of his torso.

Thankfully, there is no fear; _but not yet_. Erwin isn’t worth ruining his plan for.

Letting go of the last knife, Levi raises his hands high above his head.

Another dot, this one aiming at his head.

The dead silence of the apartment collapses when a flurry of noise bursts in through the front door.

Yelling, commands being barked, the cocking of guns, fabric rustling within riot gear. People pour in through the bedroom door, all of them armed and ready to open fire if Levi so much as swallows.

More red, this time in the form of a scarf he knows well within the crowd.

“Move and we shoot!”

Levi doesn’t plan on moving until he’s ordered to do so.

“On your knees!”

He does not, however, appreciate being yelled at.

Two men make for him and wrestle him to the ground without a hint of a struggle, making Levi wheeze when their weight is deposited onto his back.

Too many people.

Too many weapons.

Too much pressure.

Levi feels the beginning of hyperventilation clutching his lungs and squeezing as his hands are tied together and he’s yanked up to his knees.

Three people are tending to Erwin, looking over his wounds and asking questions he’s not answering because those calculating blue eyes are gazing at him. Blank and endless in their depth, holding secrets no one but Levi would believe.

“Nothing personal,” Erwin says, refusing to even blink as the tie wraps are cut.

Grabbed by the elbows, Levi is wrenched to his feet like an untamed animal. There are four guns trained on him, no doubt loaded and handled by trigger happy fools.

He’s finally reached the end of his line.

And it’s nothing personal.


	21. Devils Never Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping this short, I would like to thank every single soul out there who stuck through the very end. Readers, reviewers, artists, cosplayers ([look at how awesome this shoot is](http://sm-dc.tumblr.com/post/101814118344/a-house-of-echoes-photo-shoot-a-friend-and-i-did)), my [fab](http://kiokushitaka.tumblr.com/) and absolutely [amazing](http://erenjaegrrr.tumblr.com/) betas, and those who let me rant at them. You are all wonderful. ♥

Levi isn’t bothered by loose ends.

Try as one may, there will always be scattered pages of half-finished sentences and inconsequential ideas that won’t see the light of day. He’s already written his story, made his descent into hell and closed the cover of the book.

What he isn’t expecting is the messenger that comes into the cellblock to take Petra away with just a tap to her elbow.

Someone else comes in soon after with a black garment bag over their shoulder.

Levi is perplexed as he watches the woman open the cell door and place the bag inside before closing it again. “Ten minutes,” she says, before walking away.

Eren beats him to it, curiosity getting the best of him. “Well shit,” he says, amusement radiating off of him. “Came with a note, too.”

A tiny piece of paper is passed to him, and Levi reads it while Eren does the honors of taking the suit out of its bag.

 _Only the best_ , is what it reads. It’s signed E. S..

“Pretty sure this is Armani,” Eren says while admiring the rich fabric between his fingers. “Tiny enough to fit you.”

“Of course it’ll fit me.” This is Erwin’s last _fuck you_ , after all. “Even his assailant has to look worthy of a cover of GQ magazine.”

“Talk about getting all dressed up for fried chicken.”

Levi casts the paper aside and wastes not a second in removing his orange jumpsuit. He’s tired of how strenuous the color is on his eyes, making him grateful for the muted grays and blacks of the three piece suit.

It comes as no surprise that it fits him like a glove. Erwin’s tailor keeps Levi’s measurements in his log.

Eren awkwardly runs his fingers through Levi’s hair, feathering it up until it looks as decent as it can get in its current state. He fixes the collar, twists the tie into a proper knot, and makes sure that no wrinkle is in place.

The movements feel ritualistic, comfortable in their methodical rhythm.

Levi stands still as Eren sorts him out with gentle hands that linger a moment too long. They touch what doesn’t need touching, like Levi’s forearm or the lapels on his chest. The suit is pristine with no wrinkles to smooth out.

He doesn’t complain.

During these final moments, Levi allows himself the pleasure of touch. Not a sexual or violent touch, but a calming one. These hands don’t promise revenge or punishment, but tender solace in a moment where the whole world looks to him with high expectations.

Then, those same hands betray him.

The slap takes Levi completely off-guard, forcing him to take a step back when his cheek blooms with heat.

He focuses on the face before him, one twisted with rage, betrayal and anguish. The contrast to the impish expression seconds before is overwhelming and confusing, throwing him off his already unstable axis.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Eren asks, rooted to the spot, looking like the slightest wind might knock him down. “What even made you think that this was a good idea?”

Levi tries taking in breaths in order to speak, but no words come out.

For the first time in a long time, he’s scared. He’s scared of the lie standing in front of him, of the uncertainty that these moments might be the last throes of sanity he has left.

The color of Eren’s eyes means nothing to him. With the monster’s ability to mimic, what’s so special about the aquamarine eyes gazing at him as if he were some sort of animal?

“What are you on about?” Levi says, almost snarling. Rouse or not, the mockery doesn’t please him.

Numb fingers fumble with the buttons of his jacket.

His face feels hot.

His skin itches.

His left arm hurts.

Cold sweat breaks out along every inch of him, making him stand perfectly still when he feels himself become short of breath.

Colors become a muddy haze as the room swims, and it’s then that he realizes that Eren is holding him up in a vice grip. Eren’s face is buried against his neck and he’s murmuring things Levi can’t hear correctly.

Right now, he can’t be bothered by the question if this is real or not. Levi won’t deprive himself of the sensation of safety this momentary lapse brings. He feels at peace despite the pain, despite being unable to think and struggling to take deep gulps of air. He wants to bleed into the warmth, cling right back to the body he knows shouldn’t be here.

“I’m sorry,” he says, just to be sure. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“You goddamned asshole,” Eren says in turn, desperately clinging to him. “This isn’t what we chose. You’re supposed to be the strong one.”

Levi chuckles, resting his head over Eren’s shoulder when his body becomes too weak to move. “Guess we’re all fuck ups here.”

The armored doors bang open and a flurry of noise arises, but Levi can’t lift his head. He doesn’t want to. He recognizes the voices, and he can feel Eren tense up underneath him.

“I have to go,” he whispers, tenderly carding his fingers through Levi’s hair. He presses a kiss to his cheek and holds him, wrapping them in a bubble that can’t last. “I fought so long to get this chance and now that I’m here I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything,” Levi mutters, clinging to this last lifeline. “Promise me you’re safe, that you’re okay wherever you are.”

Eren sniffs, a quiet sob making him tremble. “I’ll be okay now.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Then I’ll say that I love you.”

Levi’s heart squeezes, eyes burning. “Eren.”

“That’s the only thing I can guarantee,” he says. A thumb presses to the corner of Levi’s eye, forcing him to face the tears he’s crying. “I can guarantee that I love you and that I’m pissed as fuck that you were stupid enough to kill yourself because I expected that at least one of us would make it to old age, but…” Eren heaves a breath. “I thought I could manipulate it. What makes you think you can?”

“You’re here. I doubt it gave its consent.”

“You can’t fight it in its turf, Levi. Not until you have leverage good enough to tip the scale in your favor.”

The voices drift closer and Eren starts pulling away.

Levi feels like death.

“It’s like getting cockblocked,” Eren says, and the words act like a battering ram, banishing every last tiny remnant of Levi’s death throes.

He heaves, sucking up as much air as he can handle before he collapses against the cell door, blood pumping and face slick with sweat. His pulse booms in his ears.

“Whatever, though,” Eren continues, grimacing in disgust and thinly veiled annoyance. “Your death wish has been granted, lucky you.”

_Lucky me._

Levi wipes the tears away from his face, gathering his wits. Shaken and troubled, at least he can now go with some sense of peace. He held his Eren if only for a brief matter of time. Life, despite the death sentence swaying over his head, blooms with warmth on his very fingertips.

Small blessings in a lost cause.

The sensation of someone watching and the sound of them clearing their throat catches Levi’s attention, and he turns to see Armin standing several feet from him. Mikasa stands beside him, her face as beautifully severe as it’s always been.

They look as pale as ghosts, dark circles under their eyes speaking of restless nights.

Expecting the worst, a long winding rant and vicious accusations, Levi adjusts the knot of his tie and straightens up as if nothing has just occurred.

“I’m sorry,” is what Armin says, making Levi bristle with guilt. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have gone through with it.” The quiet resignation in his tone overflows with honesty, and Levi remembers cool autumn days and roadside coffee. “I was afraid you would hurt yourself, or someone else.”

A little too late, he thinks. “You called the cops.” The thought had graced him on more than one occasion, but no one had bothered clarifying much of anything after he’d been taken in. No one else knew Levi’s tendencies, and calling outside help isn’t Erwin’s style. Trust him to keep this mess inside their miniscule circle of acquaintances.

Armin nods, pushing his glasses up his nose. “He contacted me several days before the assault. We discussed things.”

“You sold me out.”

“And I regret it!” Mikasa has to stand between Armin and the cell, holding him back. “Had I know it was him, that it was Erwin who’d done it, I would have done things differently.”

Picking up the jumpsuit from the floor, Levi folds it and places it on his cot. He idly wonders why Armin and Mikasa have chosen to believe him in the end. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Yes, it does! He killed Eren, not you. He’s a murderer and you’re getting executed in—”

“I’m getting executed for crimes I committed,” Levi says, perfectly even and devoid of any expression. “Regardless of how this ends, we’ll both receive our reckoning.”

“How?” Mikasa asks, crossing her arms and burrowing deeper into her jacket. “He isn’t getting charged with crap because nobody believes your testimony, the media made sure of that. You’re dead and he’s free to run the world as he pleases.”

Levi nods his head, seeing her point perfectly.

It’s similar to killing two birds with one stone.

“I’ll come back to haunt him,” Levi says, a twisted sense of irony filling him with bone deep satisfaction. Yet another shot in the dark but Levi has nothing left to lose. “Let him climb the highest mountain. The tumble downward will leave him plenty bruised and broken.”

“So this is it, then?” she says, scowling at him. “You roll over and let life take care of him?”

“I’ve caused enough.” Looking her in the eye, Levi sighs. They may not be related by blood, but the ferocity he sees boiling just underneath the surface is eerily similar to Eren’s. “Why are you here?”

“Armin trusts you.” And that seems to be reason enough. “I guess I should apologize.”

“Don’t,” Levi says. “I understand the lengths you’d go to protect your brother. I won’t let you apologize for that.”

Mikasa nods her head with the same solemn air she does everything with. “You’ve been accused of murdering fifteen people,” she says. He doesn’t understand what the statement is for, but he accepts it. There’s no use in correcting that he’s only killed ten.

Neither she nor Armin seems too fazed about this, however.

Odd, those two.

Levi wonders how different things would have been if he’d taken them in as family after Eren’s passing.

For how slow time has been passing, it now feels like it’s not enough. The clock ticks too quickly, too loudly, and when Petra re-enters the cell block with two guards in tow, Levi knows that it’s time.

Mikasa flashes her badge, stating that she has the clearance to be here. Armin remains quiet, but he makes himself into a presence that shouldn’t be taken lightly, so no one bothers him.

The two of them step aside.

“Preparations are set,” Petra says carefully. She looks uneasy, but Levi figures it’s an easier pill to swallow than her pitiful expressions. “And I’ve got something to tell you.”

Levi doesn’t make much of it as his cell door is opened. He turns around, holding his hands behind his back to be cuffed. Once done, meaty hands land on and grip his shoulders without offering any sort of give.

“We’re transferring you to a secure facility,” she says.

He nods, but then stops when he realizes what that means. “What’s wrong with the chamber here?”

“Nothing.” Petra struggles to remain impassive. “Mr. Smith requested only the finest of accommodations.” There is repulsion in her words, and it matches the looks on Armin and Mikasa’s face. “You are to be escorted.”

Eren materializes with an impressed whistle. “Guy really has a boner for you. Nice suit, nice execution chamber. Just my type.”

Levi ignores him.

“Are you taking him through the back exit?” Armin asks, his distress obvious.

Petra shakes her head. “We don’t have one.”

“They’ll kill him,” Mikasa says.

Levi looks at all three of them, unable to piece together the reason for their concern. “What’s wrong with the front?”

“Media,” Petra says.

She isn’t lying.

When the front doors of the courthouse open, Levi is stupefied by the sheer amount of people swarming the marble staircase. Their camera flashes are brighter than the sun that blinds him, their clamors deafening in his ears. Questions and enraged assertions, profanities and pleas for explanations he can’t offer.

Guards are forced to make a barricade to protect him as the crowd pushes in waves, plenty of them desperate to take justice into their own hands.

Levi doesn’t fear for his life as he quietly stumbles through the ocean of hatred and disdain. They know nothing. They understand nothing. They are nothing to him and therefore he does not care for them.

He’s rudely shoved down the narrow path towards the car waiting for him on the other end. Pushed inside, the door is shut and with it goes the incessant roars of indignation.

He sags into his seat with relief…

And pride.

Maybe he does deserve a special place in Hell. The surge of adrenaline, of sheer satisfaction that he caused this leads him to believe that he’s a very sick man, but who gives a fuck? He takes and basks in the thoughts that would otherwise disgust him because this is his end. There is no longer any use in trying to suppress those abhorrent impulses.

His name is being spoken in households all over the country, and by extension so is Eren’s.

Eren’s legacy did not deserve to die with him, and it won’t. The world needs to know his name and carry his face in their hearts with sympathy. His time upon this plane may have been cut short, but his memory will live on for years to come.

The car begins to move, and Levi closes his eyes.

A kiss is pressed to his swollen hands.

“That’s really it?” Eren says, nudging closer to Levi and resting an arm along the backrest. “That’s the master plan?”

“What is?”

“Kill yourself?”

For all the confidence and mockery, Levi can pick up on the confusion. Eren isn’t sure about it. “Yes.”

“And then what? End up where he is? Be reunited again like Casper and what’s her face?”

Levi leans into him, resting his head in the crook of his neck. “Hit and miss, really.” He heaves a deep breath and smells nothing but the car’s polished interior. “Suicides often get sorted into Limbo before Judgment Day, right? Isn’t Purgatory your domain?”

Eren is quiet for a long moment before he bursts out with a laugh. “Wait, so you want to be with him or with me? Because if I’m the one you want, you should have just asked. I’d gladly chain you to my throne, babe.”

“The only reason I’ll be near that throne is because I’ve taken it,” Levi purrs, drinking in the amusement in milky eyes. “That will be my biggest fuck you.”

“And what makes you think that you can overthrow me, hm?” Eren bumps the tips of their noses together. “A puny little soul against the shadow that threads through the Cosmos?”

“Speaking of which,” Levi says, mouthing at Eren’s jaw. The entire scenario is ridiculous, considering they’re about to start making out while he’s on the way to the electric chair. “I’ve got one last wish before I kick it.”

“I ain’t no genie. I already gave you your last wish. Even if it was unintentional.”

“Tell me what you are.”

Eren considers him with a terrifying smile, the same one that’s seduced Levi countless times. He caresses Levi’s face and the touch is colder than the atmosphere around them.

For a long time, the only sound that fills the silence is the calming roll of tires over asphalt.

“You won’t be able to understand,” Eren says, using the tone parents often use on their children. “I have no name because I’m beyond titles. Labels are a human construct.”

“You’re not all that scary.” It’s the truth. Looking back, Levi understands that the source of his fear has had nothing to do with potential madness or an entity. “Stop acting like you’re some sort of god.”

“I should have been,” Eren says, his words becoming taciturn. “I would have, had Father never banished me to wander for eternity.”

“Wonder why that is.”

Eren frowns, but doesn’t further the conversation.

The city zooms by outside the windows, with the sun peaking over the skyline as if it were hiding from the evil traveling over its roads.

Levi doesn’t push. If there is anything he’s learned, is that this monster has a fairly large ego. It won’t be long until he caves under the pressure of wanting to talk about himself.

“Leviathan.” And there it is, a single word that holds no sort of gravity. “That’s not exactly it, but it’s as close as it gets.”

“This is disappointing,” Levi says, and it’s the honest truth.

No stone had been left unturned. Every book, every database, every goddamned mystic and they all had been so terribly wrong. Not a god, angel, or demon. This thing is just a monster.

“Not just any monster,” he says defensively, picking up on Levi’s thoughts. “To be honest, your precious Holy Book got it all wrong. Makes it sound like I’m a megalodon or some bullshit.”

“I recall the sea monster story.”

“Humans take it too literal,” Eren explains, making himself comfortable. “Technically I do stalk the oceans, but not the kind you swim in. You see…”

Levi looks up at him when he stops talking, and what he sees makes him flinch away.

The Eren that sits beside him is different in a way he can’t pinpoint. There is something so viscerally wrong, and yet Levi doesn’t know what. Never mind the scar on his face, the plugs in his ears, or the tattoos on his neck, this Eren is wrong.

“Humans struggle to grasp the idea of eternity because even while understanding the definition, they can’t really see it. Even your brain’s definition of infinity is limited. When you look at the broad spectrum of things, when you sit down and watch documentaries, you see the thousands upon thousands upon thousands of galaxies in your universe and feel insignificant. One galaxy per grain of sand on Earth alone.”

Eren changes again, and this time Levi is looking down at a child dressed in clothing belonging to another time.

“Well, let me tell you, Levi. That endless void is but a blip created by an insignificant dark star. How shitty is that? This whole reality you live in isn’t supposed to exist. There is infinity of realities created by mistakes, one for each decision every person has made since Creation.”

Another shift, and this vision strikes a chord in him. He’s just as unfamiliar as the rest, but the haunted expression Eren carries strikes anguish in Levi’s heart.

He wears a tan jacket and a key around his neck.

“I’m the glue that sticks all of these realities together,” Eren says, suddenly looking very old, very powerful, and devastatingly frightening. “I’m the dark matter of the universe, the sea monster that threads between them, banished to it because Daddy was scared that all I would do is sit and eat everything in my path.” He smiles. “I am not Alpha and Omega, but I will bring the End whenever I see fit.”

Levi stays quiet, staring on the green eyes that gaze at him yet are unseeing. His hairs stand on end and he’s surreally cold. There isn’t a hint of a lie.

This thing is the monster that hides in adults’ closets.

“Why me?” Levi asks, not for the first time. “I’m just a nobody. Hardly worth your time.”

Eren smiles, but it’s a broken smile, one that’s seen death and destruction beyond measure. “You came into my house,” he says simply. “I got curious, poked around your other faces. Figured it might be worth tormenting you. When you live as long as I, it can get a little bit boring.”

“So I’m insignificant.”

“Basically.”

“Good,” Levi says, firm nod in place. “Good.” He doesn’t want to be a something on such a cosmic scale. “Otherwise, existing would be awfully lonely.”

Eren looks at him but doesn’t retort, carefully gauging his expression.

The drive stretches on, and Levi is desperate to get out of the car.

“In the end I’m just a critter with serious daddy issues,” Eren says. “I can’t end so I just pick up stray animals to call my own every couple of centuries.” He shrugs. “Pretty anticlimactic, if you ask me.”

Levi is grateful that he will meet his death shortly.

He needs to get out of the car, to run away from this thing and never face it again.

Had he any sort of weapon, Levi would have gladly taken his life right then and there because he will do anything to forget that this conversation happened. He would have welcomed this being if it were a demon or any other sort of fantastical creature, but these words have carved a hole in him. Levi fears that he will never feel joy, that he will never experience warmth again.

Levi wants to kick and scream, to shred his skin off his bones. He wants anything, he will do anything to not think on these words, to not believe them.

“Some things are better off not being known,” Eren says, touching his fingers to Levi’s forehead.

The veil is lifted, leaving him feeling like he’s walked around the world with nails under the soles of his feet, but still functional.

He shrinks into the seat, an unstoppable stream of tears flowing down his cheeks and he can’t find it in him to be angry at himself.

Levi has seen eternity, and it is bloodcurdling.

“Your little plan is useless, Levi. You can’t defeat something that is only rivaled by Death itself. But rejoice, for I am merciful.” Eren changes once more, and he is now the perfect image of Levi’s husband. “Rejoice, for while I am here, you will not need anything I cannot offer you.”

“Awfully benevolent for a guy who made my life a nightmare,” Levi spits, struggling to get out of his cuffs.

“Say what you will, but suicides are often delivered straight to my door.”

Levi realizes that he’s made a grave mistake.

The world around him becomes locked in an impenetrable silence for as long as the tires keep rolling underneath him. The buildings outside fade away into smears of dark colors that remind him that the reason why he’s still kicking is because this creature is keeping him alive.

He closes his eyes for the remainder of the drive, not wanting to think of what he’s done and what will happen next. He’s ultimately failed, and now there’s nothing to do but face the consequences and get it over with as quickly as possible.

When the car eventually stops, door opening, Levi is greeted by blissful silence and terra firma.

Ushered out, he stands by the door and looks around with dreadful confusion settling in his stomach.

This is no secured facility. There is no media or news anchors. There isn’t even a building.

This is a graveyard for shipping containers.

Rows upon rows of red and blue are stacked haphazardly all around him, and the smell of diesel fuel and burnt rubber is strong in his nose. Horns blare and trucks rumble along the nearby interstate highway, and it takes all of Levi’s willpower to not crawl into the backseat and hide.

Unfortunately, his ride is already burning rubber and fleeing the scene.

Levi stands his ground when he catches sight of an Aston Martin, sleek and powerful as it casts off a shadow like a sundial. He swallows hard when he spots Erwin leaning against the front bumper.

“Your ride’s here,” Eren says, patting Levi on the back.

Levi looks from Eren to Erwin, then back again.

He wonders if this is what going into cardiac arrest feels like.

His muscles have stopped reacting and he fears he could vomit from the rage.

Immaculate, Erwin pushes away from the car, dressed like a million dollar man. Leather gloves hide the scars on his hands, making Levi wish he’d mutilated his face instead. That would have been harder to hide and would have made him a lot less beautiful.

Levi thinks about turning tail and running, but stops when Erwin pulls out an envelope from inside his jacket and hands it to him. He gingerly takes it without taking his eyes off the ghost of a man that smiles as smooth as an alley cat. Levi knows that smile too well.

Working around the knot in his throat, Levi opens the envelope and frowns.

“Italy?” he asks. He counts three tickets.

“Italy,” Erwin echoes, heading back to the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. “I own a lovely coastal home you two might appreciate.”

Instinct tells Levi that this is his last chance to turn and run, to dive right back into the arms of the judicial system and accept his fate.

“Us two?” Eren asks, mildly stupefied. 

Levi hadn’t heard him say that.

Erwin nods his head, his sly smile passing as kind. “I don’t make deals with demons, I make business,” he says, opening the back door as well. “We’re yours as long as you keep us alive.”

“I didn’t consent to this,” Levi says, but it’s a weak argument and he knows it. Two minutes ago he’d been desperate for a way out and now here it is.

Ignoring the complaint, Erwin keep his attention on Eren. “Show me your face,” he coos, and Levi looks at him, sees no difference when Erwin nods with delight. “See? Not that difficult.”

“I can’t keep you alive forever.” Eren doesn’t look the least bit amused. “Levi already committed the incredibly stupid act of suicide. The moment I turn away he drops dead.”

“That’s why you’re not going to turn away,” Erwin says.

Eren blinks, and then laughs, almost doubling over from the force. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to be scared of humans!”

The speed in which Erwin moves alarms Levi, and he takes an involuntary step forward when he sees what Eren is doing. 

Levi recognizes the .45 caliber Beretta that is now pressed to Erwin’s temple. He looks unfazed by his own actions, as if he were holding his fingers rather than a loaded firearm to his own head.

To Levi’s horror, he finds the scene to be surreally beautiful and poignant.

“You should be,” Erwin says.

“Levi knows.” Eren offers a mirthful shrug. “Took it a lot harder than you did. To be honest that’s something I hadn’t been expecting, but!” He slips his hands into the pockets of his coat as he walks the space between Erwin and Levi. “He’s smart enough to know he can’t take me on. What makes you think you’re any different?”

Erwin cocks the gun, and Levi feels his chest tighten with apprehension.

“Good boys don’t become CEOs,” he says. “No one else knows how to destroy and devour someone else’s empire quite like me. I don’t need to take you on physically in order to obliterate you. Just imagine the chaos I can do when we’re on the same level.”

Levi watches them stand toe to toe, muted wrath written across Eren’s face. “You don’t scare me.”

The gun moves from his temple to below his chin, and Erwin smiles nice and wide. “I should. I sent him away and you fucked him over. I don’t like it when filth like you touches what’s mine.”

“For fuck’s sake you _killed_ the guy.”

“That wasn’t an invitation for you to play with him,” Erwin says with all the patience in the world. “Or with Levi.”

“You’re one sick motherfuck, you know? The two of you are.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he continues, feathers unruffled by Eren’s accusation. “Levi and I have some unfinished business and you’re going to be our guard dog. Betray me and I’ll be the thorn in your heel for the rest of eternity. Simple.”

“Still not scared of you.”

Levi watches as they stare each other down, neither one of them willing to back down and accept defeat. 

Erwin is the first to turn away, lowering the gun and walking over to stand beside the opened passenger door. “If you’re not, then you’re free to go.”

This could very well be Levi’s informal execution. The moment Eren vanishes, there will be nothing to keep the allergy at bay. But then Erwin will blow his brains out and even if Levi has no idea how he plans on overtaking this thing, he won’t be alone in trying.

They’ve arrived at an impasse in which both ends are no-win scenarios for either of them, but Erwin will have the upper hand regardless.

Leave it to him to execute things so flawlessly.

Levi isn’t all that surprised when Eren slips into the backseat with demonic contortions resting over his face. He’s interrupted when Erwin slams the door shut.

One down.

The two of them are left standing under the sweltering sun, staring at each other with mistrust and rage. Then again, how else can two people survive in this cruel world?

There is nothing different about Erwin, and there never was. He had always been a killer and a conniving bastard since day one and Levi had welcomed him that way. Levi is left wondering why he expected anything else.

“I won’t apologize for the things I did,” Erwin says with overbearing grace. “I don’t really care for it.”

“So you’re going put the guy who tried to kill you on a plane to vacation with him in Italy.” Levi shakes his head. “That would explain the suit.”

“Only the best,” he says, extending his hand for Levi to take.

God help them, because nobody else will.

“Are we going to try killing each other again?” Levi asks, hesitantly reaching up and placing his hand in Erwin’s.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, pulling Levi in and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He’s still holding the gun in his left hand. “Regardless, we’ll get Eren back even if we have to die in the process of doing so.”

“This is kind of contradictory.”

“When have we ever been otherwise?”

“There’s a monster bigger than our universe sitting in the backseat of your car.”

“A monster that’s in love with you and is intimidated by me,” he says thoughtfully, both amused and pleased by it. “He deserves to be chained up like a dog because of that.”

“How can you see him now?”

Erwin smiles down at him, sunlight raining down on his golden hair. “We had a conversation several weeks ago. We promised each other things, sealed the deal, gave me enough time to work things out.”

“You knew what he was and you didn’t tell me shit. Just left me there to rot away, thinking I had gone batshit crazy.”

“Wouldn’t have been believable otherwise.”

Levi sighs, bursting with new waves of anger. Even more secrets and lies. “How does one seal a deal with that thing?” he asks instead.

Erwin all but nuzzles the side of Levi’s face, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We fucked by the lake.”

“Of course you did.”

“It worked, didn’t it? I found its weakness and exploited it. Now we’re here.”

Stepping away from him, Levi heads for the car. It’s getting too hot under the three piece suit to continue standing in the sun.

“How fucked up is this?” Levi says as he closes the door and buckles up.

In the back seat, Eren has his arms crossed over his chest and is pouting like a grounded child. “Nine levels of fucked up.” When Erwin gets behind the wheel, he starts to whine. “I help you out and this is how you repay me? By chaining me up?”

Erwin puts on his shades and looks at Eren through the rearview mirror. “We’ll take good care of you,” he says, stealing a sideways glance at Levi.

“Yeah, ‘cause you can’t kill me,” Eren says, but the petulant tone isn’t as venomous as Levi had been expecting.

“Exactly.”

The engine purrs to life and Erwin effortlessly drives them out of the lot and onto the highway.

“This is real nice,” Levi says, as sarcastically as humanly possible. “Two serial killers and a monster take a holiday in Italy like one happy polygamous trio. The joy.”

There’s a hint of silence before Eren adds, “At least the sex will be great.”

“At least it’s not possible to murder you during the process,” Levi remarks.

“It would be in our best interest to keep a low profile for now,” Erwin says, turning on the radio but keeping it low enough to be unobtrusive over their thoughts. “We’ll discuss what needs to be done once we’re settled in.”

“What do you plan on doing, anyways?”

“Rival companies,” he states simply, and Levi doesn’t need further explanation. Hopefully the natives won’t point to those two Americans when bodies start turning up.

The drive to the airport is charged with tension and Levi fears that the atmosphere won’t be changing anytime soon. They are three ticking atom bombs inside one sack, impatiently waiting for the first one to go off.

There will be a price over their heads, and Levi wonders how Erwin is going to cover his tracks when he so suspiciously skipped town just when his attacker mysteriously disappeared without a trace.

The amount of questions hanging over Levi’s head are far too plenty to answer during the course of a short drive. Right now, all he can do is live and fight to survive another hour. He thinks about taking something for the allergy, but that would eliminate the threat he holds for Eren. Sure he could swallow a bullet, but it wouldn’t hold the same dramatic swell the three of them seem to be fond of.

Looking out the windshield, however, Levi finds that he wouldn’t mind keeping to this careful truce for a while longer.

The long nights spent in the deserted hallways of his house are fresh in his mind, standing like a monolith as a reminder of what solitude and grief are truly capable of.

Levi is grateful because he is still alive when he shouldn’t be, because he’s not alone when he should be. There is a chance here, a choice he can make to better or worsen what he’s done. Redemption and damnation are lying on the welcome mat, and he’s been given an opportunity to take one in.

He isn’t afraid anymore, and that alone is a colossal load that has been lifted from his shoulders. He isn’t indestructible, so what has he to fear? Death isn’t even the end; it’s the beginning of a war he’s aching to fight.

Breathing in the smell of coconut and cherry air fresheners, Levi places his head against the headrest. He reaches for the wedding band that hangs from his neck and holds it in his clenched fist.

All he can do now is hope he can part oceans and turn mountains to dust, destroy them before they destroy him any further.

He won’t quit, regardless of the outcome that awaits him on the other side. Stay the course, even if it kills him to continue loving the man sitting next to him, the same way he’s never stopped loving the man that was taken from him.

Levi smiles to himself, feeling like an idiot when he realizes that he finally understands what it is to love someone. How fucked up it truly is; how fucked up they are. But what else is there to do? It isn’t like he chose to love them. Grand design, fate, whatever, he doesn’t care. This is where Levi stands.

Let prose speak of how love will kill a person, but love isn’t the weapon. Love is merely the drive, the oxygen that fills a killer’s lungs.

Levi killed for love, and that’s the end of it.

He can’t bring himself to regret the choices he made.


End file.
